*Brother Patrick Martin was the last defense witness, called to tell of Ambrose's character. He had coached Ambrose on the wrestling team at St. Laurence High School in Burbank and had remained in regular contact with him. When Assistant U.S. Attorney Diane MacArthur addressed Martin as "Father," he corrected her, saying "My name is 'Brother.'" She was about to resume questioning him, when he interrupted her with, "I'm sorry, I don't know your name." It might've been the one time MacArthur was thrown off her game.
*The jurors asked many questions during the trial via notes they submitted to U.S. District Judge John Grady, mostly wanting to ask something else of a particular witness.
*Grady is a judge who apparently thinks this is a good idea. One of the jurors' questions elicited one of the more interesting revelations of the trial - that two witnesses at a major mob trial in 2007 did not want to be protected by marshals after hearing of Ambrose's alleged security breach. They were guarded instead by FBI agents.
* Also, a juror requested a transcript from the opening arguments and closing statements of the trial. Grady laughed as he turned that one down.
* During his time on the witness stand, U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald kept talking about his habit of not wearing a watch. "I should wear a watch," he concluded after the third reference.
* A large gray partition was used during the testimony of some deputy marshals to protect their identities from the public - even for one who retired in January and another who has a different job now. They were identified only as Inspector Four and Deputy Six.
* The trial did not have a lot of drama. No shouting by attorneys. During the prosecution's closing argument, Grady told Ambrose to stop "wagging his head" back and forth. When his attorney gave his closing arguments, Ambrose wept silently when his father, Thomas, was mentioned - a former Chicago police officer who was convicted in the famous "Marquette 10" police corruption trial in 1982 and imprisoned. The man to whom Ambrose allegedly leaked the critical information was a former Chicago cop who was convicted with Ambrose's father.
One of the Chicago mob's more colorful figures, Joey "The Clown" Lombardo, was "smitten" with Ambrose's mother, who would visit her husband at a federal prison that also housed Lombardo, an FBI agent testified during the trial. He said she used to go to the prison in Milan, Mich., with the wife of Frank DeRango, a fellow "Marquette 10" defendant who was Thomas Ambrose's police partner and was incarcerated with him there. After Ambrose died in prison, his wife continued to travel with Mrs. DeRango, and one day Lombardo insisted on taking a photo with her, the agent said.
Thanks to Lauren Fitzpatrick
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Video of U.S. Marshal Convicted for Leaking Secrets to the Mafia
Video of U.S. Marshal convicted for leaking secrets to the mafia. John Ambrose leaked info about a witness to the mafia, he faces up to 15 years in prison.
Degenerate Gambler Accountant Aides the Feds in Bringing Down Mobsters
Las Vegas has always been an attractive place for the hail-fellow, the hustler, and the man on the make.
With its shadowy history, seductive setting and proximity to a limitless river of cash, it brims with dreamers, scufflers and schemers. It's a spot where a guy who knows a guy can make a good living.
It was perhaps the ideal spot for the FBI to turn a man like Stephen Corso loose with a recording device. By all accounts, Corso was the street-wise guy Las Vegas tourists fantasize about and most locals rarely experience, the one who exists in dimly lighted bars and nondescript strip mall offices.
Corso was an accountant by training, a salesman by calling, and a high-rolling degenerate gambler by compulsion when he got caught swiping clients' money to feed his blackjack Jones and penthouse lifestyle. He spent $5 million that didn't belong to him and was on his way to a prison stretch when he began cooperating with the FBI in 2002.
From what I've pieced together from public documents and street sources, the smooth-talking accountant found his true calling as an undercover informant. Reliable sources say Corso worked his way into the local mob scene and pulled the pants off some very experienced wiseguys.
According to a federal document from the Eastern District of Virginia, where Corso's efforts helped nail securities attorney David Stocker on a "pump and dump" stock manipulation scheme with connections reaching into the Securities and Exchange Commission, the accountant was a one-man La Cosa Nostra census worker.
"He provided information related to the activities of individuals with ties to several LCN organized crime families to include: the Chicago Outfit, Lucchese LCN, Bonanno LCN, Genovese LCN, Colombo LCN, Philadelphia LCN, Decavalcante LCN, and Gambino LCN," the document states. "Corso was also instrumental in providing FBI agents with information on individuals with ties to Russian organized crime, Youngstown, Ohio gangsters, and the Irish Mob which exists in the Boston, Mass. area."
Sounds like the guy did everything but dig up Jimmy Hoffa. Corso back-slapped his way into the Las Vegas underworld, then used his accounting and tax preparation skills to give the wiseguys a financial endoscopic treatment.
He played an integral role in sealing the deal in the lengthy "Mafia Cops" case, in which Las Vegas residents and former NYPD detectives Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa were found guilty of acting as contract killers for the Lucchese crime family. Corso's work in Las Vegas proved beyond reasonable doubt that the Mafia Cops continued their criminal conspiracy years after leaving New York.
"Corso's testimony was critical to the ... conclusion that the conspiracy continued into the limitations period," one government document states.
It's as simple as this: No Corso, no Mafia Cops conviction. And it will be intriguing to see whether the government gets a victory in a related drug case involving Eppolito's son, Anthony Eppolito, and Guido Bravatti now that Corso has been sentenced to a year and a day for his own transgressions.
It's also been reported Corso worked in connection with the Crazy Horse Too investigation. I imagine former Crazy Horse official Bobby D'Apice, who now resides at government expense, won't be sending his former tax consultant, Corso, a letter of reference.
At his February sentencing in Connecticut, U.S. District Judge Janet Hall seemed almost apologetic. Although she called Corso's crime "an extraordinary violation of trust," she admitted, "I can't find the words to describe the value, at least in my judgment, of this cooperation."
The feds have a long tradition of going to embarrassing lengths to help their most effective informants. Not this time. Corso, the accountant, will serve longer than some informants with murder convictions.
Who could blame him if he told the government to get stuffed? The FBI and U.S. attorney's office in Connecticut credit Corso with generating at least seven arrests, 20 convictions, and $4.2 million in seizures and forfeitures. And it isn't over.
"The LCN is well known for its tradition of seeking retribution against those who cooperate with law enforcement," a federal memo states. "Corso knew of the danger, but continually put himself in harm's way for the benefit of the government."
So much for loyalty.
Now all Stephen Corso has to do is watch his back the rest of his life.
Thanks to John L. Smith
With its shadowy history, seductive setting and proximity to a limitless river of cash, it brims with dreamers, scufflers and schemers. It's a spot where a guy who knows a guy can make a good living.
It was perhaps the ideal spot for the FBI to turn a man like Stephen Corso loose with a recording device. By all accounts, Corso was the street-wise guy Las Vegas tourists fantasize about and most locals rarely experience, the one who exists in dimly lighted bars and nondescript strip mall offices.
Corso was an accountant by training, a salesman by calling, and a high-rolling degenerate gambler by compulsion when he got caught swiping clients' money to feed his blackjack Jones and penthouse lifestyle. He spent $5 million that didn't belong to him and was on his way to a prison stretch when he began cooperating with the FBI in 2002.
From what I've pieced together from public documents and street sources, the smooth-talking accountant found his true calling as an undercover informant. Reliable sources say Corso worked his way into the local mob scene and pulled the pants off some very experienced wiseguys.
According to a federal document from the Eastern District of Virginia, where Corso's efforts helped nail securities attorney David Stocker on a "pump and dump" stock manipulation scheme with connections reaching into the Securities and Exchange Commission, the accountant was a one-man La Cosa Nostra census worker.
"He provided information related to the activities of individuals with ties to several LCN organized crime families to include: the Chicago Outfit, Lucchese LCN, Bonanno LCN, Genovese LCN, Colombo LCN, Philadelphia LCN, Decavalcante LCN, and Gambino LCN," the document states. "Corso was also instrumental in providing FBI agents with information on individuals with ties to Russian organized crime, Youngstown, Ohio gangsters, and the Irish Mob which exists in the Boston, Mass. area."
Sounds like the guy did everything but dig up Jimmy Hoffa. Corso back-slapped his way into the Las Vegas underworld, then used his accounting and tax preparation skills to give the wiseguys a financial endoscopic treatment.
He played an integral role in sealing the deal in the lengthy "Mafia Cops" case, in which Las Vegas residents and former NYPD detectives Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa were found guilty of acting as contract killers for the Lucchese crime family. Corso's work in Las Vegas proved beyond reasonable doubt that the Mafia Cops continued their criminal conspiracy years after leaving New York.
"Corso's testimony was critical to the ... conclusion that the conspiracy continued into the limitations period," one government document states.
It's as simple as this: No Corso, no Mafia Cops conviction. And it will be intriguing to see whether the government gets a victory in a related drug case involving Eppolito's son, Anthony Eppolito, and Guido Bravatti now that Corso has been sentenced to a year and a day for his own transgressions.
It's also been reported Corso worked in connection with the Crazy Horse Too investigation. I imagine former Crazy Horse official Bobby D'Apice, who now resides at government expense, won't be sending his former tax consultant, Corso, a letter of reference.
At his February sentencing in Connecticut, U.S. District Judge Janet Hall seemed almost apologetic. Although she called Corso's crime "an extraordinary violation of trust," she admitted, "I can't find the words to describe the value, at least in my judgment, of this cooperation."
The feds have a long tradition of going to embarrassing lengths to help their most effective informants. Not this time. Corso, the accountant, will serve longer than some informants with murder convictions.
Who could blame him if he told the government to get stuffed? The FBI and U.S. attorney's office in Connecticut credit Corso with generating at least seven arrests, 20 convictions, and $4.2 million in seizures and forfeitures. And it isn't over.
"The LCN is well known for its tradition of seeking retribution against those who cooperate with law enforcement," a federal memo states. "Corso knew of the danger, but continually put himself in harm's way for the benefit of the government."
So much for loyalty.
Now all Stephen Corso has to do is watch his back the rest of his life.
Thanks to John L. Smith
What do Vincent "The Chin" Gigante. New Jersey Gov. James McGreevey. Hollywood Actor Steven Seagal Have in Common?
Vincent "The Chin" Gigante. New Jersey Gov. James McGreevey. Hollywood actor Steven Seagal.
All had one thing in common: Their names have been attached to mob captain Angelo Prisco, who today was found guilty in the murder of a cousin suspected of stealing from fellow mobsters.
After a two-week jury trial in New York City, Prisco, a Genovese crime family captain who was in charge of the New Jersey operations, was convicted in the 1992 murder of Angelo Sangiuolo in the Bronx.
Prisco, 69, who divided his time between Toms River and the Bronx and was nicknamed "The Horn," was found guilty of murder, racketeering, racketeering conspiracy, robbery, extortion, firearms crimes, property theft and operating an illegal gambling business.
Prisco was at the center of headlines in 2002 when an aide to McGreevey and tough-guy actor Seagal allegedly sought to get him early parole on a 1998 arson and conspiracy conviction.
Facing a shakedown by the Gambino crime family, Seagal sought Prisco's help as a mediator, according to an FBI tape. Prisco in turn asked for the actor's assistance in helping him win parole, which he was granted in 2002, having served just four years of a 12-year sentence.
McGreevey and his aide denied the allegations, but state and federal grand juries were formed to investigate the controversial parole. No charges were ever filed, but sources at the time told The Star-Ledger parole officials told investigators the governor's office intervened to help Prisco.
Prisco received the order to kill Sangiuolo from then-boss Vincent "The Chin" Gigante, and assigned John "Johnny Balls" Leto and another member of his crew to carry out the killing at a Bronx social club, prosecutors said. After Prisco ordered Sangiuolo into a van, Leto shot Sangiuolo numerous times before leaving the body in the back of the van at a McDonald's, prosecutors said.
Prisco then picked up Leto at the fast food restaurant and accompanied him while Leto disposed of the gun, prosecutors said.
Prisco also was convicted of conspiring to commit robberies with crew members in 1991-92, including car-jackings and armed robberies of jewelry dealers transporting large quantities of gold bought in the Dominican Republic, prosecutors said. One robbery yielded a bag of gold worth $50,000, and Prisco bragged about the heists by passing around a newspaper article on the robberies, prosecutors said.
In 1997, in an attempt to extort $50,000 from a Manhattan construction company owner, prosecutors said Prisco sent his crew to break a glass coffeepot over the head of the owner's business partner. Later, crew members threatened to cut off the owner's finger and harm his family, prosecutors said.
Between 2003-05, Prisco "green lighted" multiple violent home robberies in which individuals thought to have cash in their homes were tied up and beaten, prosecutors said.
He faces 15 years to life in prison. Sentencing is scheduled for July 23.
Among his plaudits, Lev L. Dassin, U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York, praised law enforcement agencies in New Jersey for their contributions to the investigation and prosecution of the case, including the FBI's Newark field office, the New Jersey State Commission of Investigation, the Morris County prosecutor's office and Rockaway Township police.
On FBI tapes, Prisco told his driver: "Outside of you being the boss, this life sucks. And it's like a Catch-22. If you're the boss, you go to jail. This life ... it ain't what it's cracked up to be."
Thanks to Mike Frassinelli
All had one thing in common: Their names have been attached to mob captain Angelo Prisco, who today was found guilty in the murder of a cousin suspected of stealing from fellow mobsters.
After a two-week jury trial in New York City, Prisco, a Genovese crime family captain who was in charge of the New Jersey operations, was convicted in the 1992 murder of Angelo Sangiuolo in the Bronx.
Prisco, 69, who divided his time between Toms River and the Bronx and was nicknamed "The Horn," was found guilty of murder, racketeering, racketeering conspiracy, robbery, extortion, firearms crimes, property theft and operating an illegal gambling business.
Prisco was at the center of headlines in 2002 when an aide to McGreevey and tough-guy actor Seagal allegedly sought to get him early parole on a 1998 arson and conspiracy conviction.
Facing a shakedown by the Gambino crime family, Seagal sought Prisco's help as a mediator, according to an FBI tape. Prisco in turn asked for the actor's assistance in helping him win parole, which he was granted in 2002, having served just four years of a 12-year sentence.
McGreevey and his aide denied the allegations, but state and federal grand juries were formed to investigate the controversial parole. No charges were ever filed, but sources at the time told The Star-Ledger parole officials told investigators the governor's office intervened to help Prisco.
Prisco received the order to kill Sangiuolo from then-boss Vincent "The Chin" Gigante, and assigned John "Johnny Balls" Leto and another member of his crew to carry out the killing at a Bronx social club, prosecutors said. After Prisco ordered Sangiuolo into a van, Leto shot Sangiuolo numerous times before leaving the body in the back of the van at a McDonald's, prosecutors said.
Prisco then picked up Leto at the fast food restaurant and accompanied him while Leto disposed of the gun, prosecutors said.
Prisco also was convicted of conspiring to commit robberies with crew members in 1991-92, including car-jackings and armed robberies of jewelry dealers transporting large quantities of gold bought in the Dominican Republic, prosecutors said. One robbery yielded a bag of gold worth $50,000, and Prisco bragged about the heists by passing around a newspaper article on the robberies, prosecutors said.
In 1997, in an attempt to extort $50,000 from a Manhattan construction company owner, prosecutors said Prisco sent his crew to break a glass coffeepot over the head of the owner's business partner. Later, crew members threatened to cut off the owner's finger and harm his family, prosecutors said.
Between 2003-05, Prisco "green lighted" multiple violent home robberies in which individuals thought to have cash in their homes were tied up and beaten, prosecutors said.
He faces 15 years to life in prison. Sentencing is scheduled for July 23.
Among his plaudits, Lev L. Dassin, U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York, praised law enforcement agencies in New Jersey for their contributions to the investigation and prosecution of the case, including the FBI's Newark field office, the New Jersey State Commission of Investigation, the Morris County prosecutor's office and Rockaway Township police.
On FBI tapes, Prisco told his driver: "Outside of you being the boss, this life sucks. And it's like a Catch-22. If you're the boss, you go to jail. This life ... it ain't what it's cracked up to be."
Thanks to Mike Frassinelli
Angelo Priso Guilty of Whacking Ordered by Vincent "The Chin" Gigante
Genovese family capo Angelo Prisco was found guilty Monday of conspiring to kill his cousin in a 1992 hit ordered by The Oddfella - Genovese boss Vincent (The Chin) Gigante.
A Manhattan Federal Court jury found Prisco, 69, responsible for the slaying of Angelo Sangiuolo, as well as a series of violent, gunpoint robberies dating to 1991. The pajama-fan Gigante gave Prisco the order to kill Sangiuolo because he suspected Sangiuolo was robbing from a Genovese soldier.
Prisco, of Toms River, N.J., recruited John Leto and another trusted member of his crew to carry out the job.
Prisco lured Sangiuolo to a Bronx social club and urged him to get inside a van with Leto, who shot Sangiuolo numerous times, prosecutors said. Prisco then picked up Leto in the parking lot of a Bronx McDonald's where they left the body in the van and drove away.
In the early 1990s, Prisco ran a robbery crew that carjacked jewelry dealers transporting gems purchased in the Dominican Republic, including a heist that netted a $50,000 bag of gold.
During 2003 and 2005, a Prisco-led crew tied up and beat robbery victims in their homes and then kicked up a portion of the proceeds to their capo, prosecutors say. Prisco counseled his charges to "play dumb" if by mistake they ripped off a fellow member of organized crime.
Prisco's 2003 parole from a New Jersey prison four years into a 12-year sentence for arson and conspiracy prompted a state-level review of Gov. James McGreevey's role in the release.
Thanks to Thomas Zambito
A Manhattan Federal Court jury found Prisco, 69, responsible for the slaying of Angelo Sangiuolo, as well as a series of violent, gunpoint robberies dating to 1991. The pajama-fan Gigante gave Prisco the order to kill Sangiuolo because he suspected Sangiuolo was robbing from a Genovese soldier.
Prisco, of Toms River, N.J., recruited John Leto and another trusted member of his crew to carry out the job.
Prisco lured Sangiuolo to a Bronx social club and urged him to get inside a van with Leto, who shot Sangiuolo numerous times, prosecutors said. Prisco then picked up Leto in the parking lot of a Bronx McDonald's where they left the body in the van and drove away.
In the early 1990s, Prisco ran a robbery crew that carjacked jewelry dealers transporting gems purchased in the Dominican Republic, including a heist that netted a $50,000 bag of gold.
During 2003 and 2005, a Prisco-led crew tied up and beat robbery victims in their homes and then kicked up a portion of the proceeds to their capo, prosecutors say. Prisco counseled his charges to "play dumb" if by mistake they ripped off a fellow member of organized crime.
Prisco's 2003 parole from a New Jersey prison four years into a 12-year sentence for arson and conspiracy prompted a state-level review of Gov. James McGreevey's role in the release.
Thanks to Thomas Zambito
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Juror Dismissed with the Flu, Prior to Guilty Verdict in Trial of U.S. Deputy Marshal
Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose was convicted today on charges that he leaked secret government information that made its way to the mob.
A federal jury found Ambrose guilty of one count of theft of information and one count of illegal disclosure of information but found him innocent on two counts of lying to federal agents.
Ambrose wiped away tears after the verdict and embraced his wife. Ambrose, 42, is a decorated deputy marshal who has hunted down national and international fugitives. He was the second highest ranking member of a regional fugitive task force. The verdict delivers Ambrose a similar fate of that of his father, who was convicted in the 1980s with police corruption in a case known as the Marquette 10. The elder Ambrose died in prison.
Both Ambrose and his father had the same judge.
Ambrose was acquitted of charges that he lied to U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald and FBI chief Rob Grant. His lawyer, Frank Lipuma, raised questions about why Grant and Fitzgerald didn’t record their interview with the deputy marshal. Several character witnesses testified on Ambrose's behalf at the trial, including U.S. District Judge Charles Kocoras, who said he knew Ambrose to be truthful.
The jury deliberated tor three full days. One juror sick with the flu — though not swine flu — was excused this morning after U.S. District Judge John Grady said the panel should continue without her. Grady said case law supports a jury moving forward with one fewer person.
There were alternate jurors chosen in the case. But if an alternate is called back, the entire panel must start its deliberations from scratch.
Ambrose is accused of leaking information after he worked two brief stints with the federal witness protection program in 2002 and 2003, watching over mob witness Nick Calabrese. Ambrose is accused of committing a “criminal betrayal of trust” by leaking highly secretive information about Calabrese’s cooperation and activities, prosecutors have said in the case.
The leaked information made its way to members of the Chicago Outfit at a time mobsters were looking for solid confirmation that Calabrese was cooperating so they could “act,” Assistant U.S. Attorney Markus Funk said early in the trial.
Ambrose is charged with leaking sensitive government information about Calabrese and then lying to FBI chief Robert Grant and U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald when they questioned him. Both Grant and Fitzgerald testified against him.
Ambrose's lawyer, Frank Lipuma, said his client is a hard-working, good, honest man who made "a big mistake in his job ... but it was not with criminal intent." Lipuma admitted that Ambrose had discussions with a man he looked to as a father figure, William Guide, about Calabrese. Guide had done prison time with Ambrose's late father, who went to prison as part of the “Marquette 10” police corruption case. Ambrose’s father died in prison.
“John got caught up in this because he was boasting about what he was doing,” Lipuma said.
Thanks to Natasha Korecki
A federal jury found Ambrose guilty of one count of theft of information and one count of illegal disclosure of information but found him innocent on two counts of lying to federal agents.
Ambrose wiped away tears after the verdict and embraced his wife. Ambrose, 42, is a decorated deputy marshal who has hunted down national and international fugitives. He was the second highest ranking member of a regional fugitive task force. The verdict delivers Ambrose a similar fate of that of his father, who was convicted in the 1980s with police corruption in a case known as the Marquette 10. The elder Ambrose died in prison.
Both Ambrose and his father had the same judge.
Ambrose was acquitted of charges that he lied to U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald and FBI chief Rob Grant. His lawyer, Frank Lipuma, raised questions about why Grant and Fitzgerald didn’t record their interview with the deputy marshal. Several character witnesses testified on Ambrose's behalf at the trial, including U.S. District Judge Charles Kocoras, who said he knew Ambrose to be truthful.
The jury deliberated tor three full days. One juror sick with the flu — though not swine flu — was excused this morning after U.S. District Judge John Grady said the panel should continue without her. Grady said case law supports a jury moving forward with one fewer person.
There were alternate jurors chosen in the case. But if an alternate is called back, the entire panel must start its deliberations from scratch.
Ambrose is accused of leaking information after he worked two brief stints with the federal witness protection program in 2002 and 2003, watching over mob witness Nick Calabrese. Ambrose is accused of committing a “criminal betrayal of trust” by leaking highly secretive information about Calabrese’s cooperation and activities, prosecutors have said in the case.
The leaked information made its way to members of the Chicago Outfit at a time mobsters were looking for solid confirmation that Calabrese was cooperating so they could “act,” Assistant U.S. Attorney Markus Funk said early in the trial.
Ambrose is charged with leaking sensitive government information about Calabrese and then lying to FBI chief Robert Grant and U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald when they questioned him. Both Grant and Fitzgerald testified against him.
Ambrose's lawyer, Frank Lipuma, said his client is a hard-working, good, honest man who made "a big mistake in his job ... but it was not with criminal intent." Lipuma admitted that Ambrose had discussions with a man he looked to as a father figure, William Guide, about Calabrese. Guide had done prison time with Ambrose's late father, who went to prison as part of the “Marquette 10” police corruption case. Ambrose’s father died in prison.
“John got caught up in this because he was boasting about what he was doing,” Lipuma said.
Thanks to Natasha Korecki
Guilty Verdict Against U.S. Deputy Marshal John Ambrose at Mob Leak Trial
A deputy U.S. marshal has been convicted in Chicago of leaking secret information to the mob about a protected witness in a federal organized crime investigation.
Deputy marshal John T. Ambrose stared straight ahead as jurors returned the verdict Tuesday following almost three days of deliberation.
Prosecutors say it was the first time in the 39-year history of the government's witness security program that its secrecy was deliberately violated.
Prosecutors say they realized there was a leak when two mobsters were overheard in a prison visiting room talking about having a "mole" inside federal law enforcement.
The 42-year-old Ambrose was acquitted of two charges of lying to federal agents.
Deputy marshal John T. Ambrose stared straight ahead as jurors returned the verdict Tuesday following almost three days of deliberation.
Prosecutors say it was the first time in the 39-year history of the government's witness security program that its secrecy was deliberately violated.
Prosecutors say they realized there was a leak when two mobsters were overheard in a prison visiting room talking about having a "mole" inside federal law enforcement.
The 42-year-old Ambrose was acquitted of two charges of lying to federal agents.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Convictions for 4 in Racketeering, Loan Sharking and Extortion Case Including Arthur Gianelli
Reputed Mafia associate Arthur Gianelli kept meticulous records for his sprawling sports betting and loan shark ring, including a list of so-called problem people that included deadbeat gamblers and mobsters who were shaking him down for a cut of his profits.
He warned his girlfriend to "keep your mouth shut" about his gambling business, unaware that State Police investigators were secretly recording that phone call and hundreds more as he and his associates blabbed about arson, extortion, money-laundering, and other crimes.
Yesterday, after weighing all those records and phone calls, a US District Court jury in Boston found Gianelli, 51, of Lynnfield, guilty of hundreds of charges, including racketeering, arson, illegal gambling, money laundering, and attempted extortion.
The jury of six men and six women, which deliberated 23 hours over four days, also found Gianelli's three codefendants - Dennis "Fish" Albertelli, 56, and his wife, Gisele Albertelli, 54, of Stow, and Frank Iacaboni, 65, of Leominster - guilty of racketeering conspiracy and a variety of other charges in the case that prosecutors say marked the downfall of a sprawling enterprise protected by the Mafia.
"This prosecution eliminated one of the largest gambling and loan-sharking operations operating in the Greater Boston area," Assistant US Attorney Fred Wyshak said after the verdict. "It was affiliated with organized crime, and this is part of the government's battle against organized crime."
There was testimony during the eight-week trial that Gianelli, who is the brother-in-law of disgraced former FBI agent John J. Connolly Jr., paid $2,000 a month in tribute to New England Mafia underboss Carmen "The Cheese Man" DiNunzio from 2001 to 2003. In exchange, the Mafia protected Gianelli's organization, prosecutors said.
Jurors also heard tapes and testimony indicating that another reputed mobster, Dennis LePore, allegedly started shaking Gianelli down for money after relatives told him they had heard Gianelli's gambling business was booming.
In a Feb. 5, 2004, call recorded by State Police and played at the trial, Gianelli accused Daniele Mazzei, then his girlfriend, of putting him in jeopardy with the Mafia by talking about his business to LePore's nephew. "Just don't tell anybody these [expletive] things, because it ends up a [expletive] problem," Gianelli said. "These [expletive] people are jealous against everybody, and and they're lookin' to rob everybody, all right? And they ain't gonna rob me."
In a telephone call with LePore the next day, Gianelli agreed to pay him $15,000.
Jurors found Gianelli ran an organization involved in sports betting, video poker machines, and later online gambling. They also convicted Gianelli of attempted extortion for trying to seize control of Clarke's Turn of the Century Saloon in Faneuil Hall and McCarthy's Bar and Grill on Boylston Street in Boston, between 1998 and 2002.
Gianelli's lawyer, Robert Sheketoff, who had argued that the government's witnesses were not credible, urged jurors not to be swayed by the sheer size of the 333-count indictment. He declined to comment after yesterday's verdict.
Gianelli's wife, Mary Ann, who pleaded guilty last month to money-laundering, racketeering, and other charges and is awaiting sentencing, is the sister of Connolly's wife, Elizabeth. The Gianellis and Connollys lived next door to each other in Lynnfield. Connolly was convicted of federal racketeering in Boston in 2002 and sentenced to 10 years.
Last November, Connolly was convicted of murder in Florida for helping longtime informants James "Whitey" Bulger and Stephen "The Rifleman" Flemmi orchestrate the 1982 slaying of a businessman.
Yesterday, Gianelli, who had been in custody while awaiting trial, showed little emotion as the verdict was read, and he said nothing afterward.
Iacaboni, who was convicted of eight of nine charges against him, said, "This is a shock," after the verdict was read.
Gianelli, Iacaboni, and Dennis Albertelli were all convicted of arson in plotting to burn down the Big Dog Sports Grille in North Reading in a bid to force its owners to sell Gianelli and Albertelli another bar in Lynnfield. The arson conviction carries a minimum mandatory 15-year prison term.
Gisele Albertelli's lawyer, Page Kelley, said, "I'm disappointed that they returned so many 'guilties,' because there were a lot of counts on which the evidence was dubious. The problem with an indictment like this that alleges so many crimes is that it's hard to overcome the presumption of guilt."
Dennis Albertelli's lawyer, Edward Pasquina Jr., referring to prosecution witnesses who were granted immunity in exchange for their cooperation, said, "Certainly the government marched in a parade of horribles, and they [jurors] took their word for it."
US District Judge Nathaniel M. Gorton set sentencing for July 17 for Gianelli; July 23 for Dennis Albertelli, the following day for Iacaboni, and July 29 for Gisele Albertelli.
The case, investigated by the Massachusetts State Police Special Service Section, began with a wiretap and quickly mushroomed.
Thanks to Shelley Murphy
He warned his girlfriend to "keep your mouth shut" about his gambling business, unaware that State Police investigators were secretly recording that phone call and hundreds more as he and his associates blabbed about arson, extortion, money-laundering, and other crimes.
Yesterday, after weighing all those records and phone calls, a US District Court jury in Boston found Gianelli, 51, of Lynnfield, guilty of hundreds of charges, including racketeering, arson, illegal gambling, money laundering, and attempted extortion.
The jury of six men and six women, which deliberated 23 hours over four days, also found Gianelli's three codefendants - Dennis "Fish" Albertelli, 56, and his wife, Gisele Albertelli, 54, of Stow, and Frank Iacaboni, 65, of Leominster - guilty of racketeering conspiracy and a variety of other charges in the case that prosecutors say marked the downfall of a sprawling enterprise protected by the Mafia.
"This prosecution eliminated one of the largest gambling and loan-sharking operations operating in the Greater Boston area," Assistant US Attorney Fred Wyshak said after the verdict. "It was affiliated with organized crime, and this is part of the government's battle against organized crime."
There was testimony during the eight-week trial that Gianelli, who is the brother-in-law of disgraced former FBI agent John J. Connolly Jr., paid $2,000 a month in tribute to New England Mafia underboss Carmen "The Cheese Man" DiNunzio from 2001 to 2003. In exchange, the Mafia protected Gianelli's organization, prosecutors said.
Jurors also heard tapes and testimony indicating that another reputed mobster, Dennis LePore, allegedly started shaking Gianelli down for money after relatives told him they had heard Gianelli's gambling business was booming.
In a Feb. 5, 2004, call recorded by State Police and played at the trial, Gianelli accused Daniele Mazzei, then his girlfriend, of putting him in jeopardy with the Mafia by talking about his business to LePore's nephew. "Just don't tell anybody these [expletive] things, because it ends up a [expletive] problem," Gianelli said. "These [expletive] people are jealous against everybody, and and they're lookin' to rob everybody, all right? And they ain't gonna rob me."
In a telephone call with LePore the next day, Gianelli agreed to pay him $15,000.
Jurors found Gianelli ran an organization involved in sports betting, video poker machines, and later online gambling. They also convicted Gianelli of attempted extortion for trying to seize control of Clarke's Turn of the Century Saloon in Faneuil Hall and McCarthy's Bar and Grill on Boylston Street in Boston, between 1998 and 2002.
Gianelli's lawyer, Robert Sheketoff, who had argued that the government's witnesses were not credible, urged jurors not to be swayed by the sheer size of the 333-count indictment. He declined to comment after yesterday's verdict.
Gianelli's wife, Mary Ann, who pleaded guilty last month to money-laundering, racketeering, and other charges and is awaiting sentencing, is the sister of Connolly's wife, Elizabeth. The Gianellis and Connollys lived next door to each other in Lynnfield. Connolly was convicted of federal racketeering in Boston in 2002 and sentenced to 10 years.
Last November, Connolly was convicted of murder in Florida for helping longtime informants James "Whitey" Bulger and Stephen "The Rifleman" Flemmi orchestrate the 1982 slaying of a businessman.
Yesterday, Gianelli, who had been in custody while awaiting trial, showed little emotion as the verdict was read, and he said nothing afterward.
Iacaboni, who was convicted of eight of nine charges against him, said, "This is a shock," after the verdict was read.
Gianelli, Iacaboni, and Dennis Albertelli were all convicted of arson in plotting to burn down the Big Dog Sports Grille in North Reading in a bid to force its owners to sell Gianelli and Albertelli another bar in Lynnfield. The arson conviction carries a minimum mandatory 15-year prison term.
Gisele Albertelli's lawyer, Page Kelley, said, "I'm disappointed that they returned so many 'guilties,' because there were a lot of counts on which the evidence was dubious. The problem with an indictment like this that alleges so many crimes is that it's hard to overcome the presumption of guilt."
Dennis Albertelli's lawyer, Edward Pasquina Jr., referring to prosecution witnesses who were granted immunity in exchange for their cooperation, said, "Certainly the government marched in a parade of horribles, and they [jurors] took their word for it."
US District Judge Nathaniel M. Gorton set sentencing for July 17 for Gianelli; July 23 for Dennis Albertelli, the following day for Iacaboni, and July 29 for Gisele Albertelli.
The case, investigated by the Massachusetts State Police Special Service Section, began with a wiretap and quickly mushroomed.
Thanks to Shelley Murphy
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Weekend Break for U.S. Marshal Trial Jury
Jurors will resume deliberations next week in the trial of a deputy U.S. marshal accused of leaking information about a witness to the mob.
The jury in John Ambrose's trial deliberated nearly seven hours before adjourning Friday afternoon. Deliberations will begin again Monday.
Ambrose, a veteran fugitive hunter, is accused of leaking confidential information about Nicholas Calabrese, whom he had been assigned to guard while the mobster was in Chicago talking to federal prosecutors in the "Family Secrets" mob trial. Ambrose denies he ever broke the law in handling secret information.
Ambrose is the only person in the 39-year history of the government's Witness Security Program to be accused of deliberately violating its security safeguards.
Thanks to AP
The jury in John Ambrose's trial deliberated nearly seven hours before adjourning Friday afternoon. Deliberations will begin again Monday.
Ambrose, a veteran fugitive hunter, is accused of leaking confidential information about Nicholas Calabrese, whom he had been assigned to guard while the mobster was in Chicago talking to federal prosecutors in the "Family Secrets" mob trial. Ambrose denies he ever broke the law in handling secret information.
Ambrose is the only person in the 39-year history of the government's Witness Security Program to be accused of deliberately violating its security safeguards.
Thanks to AP
US Marshal's Office and FBI's Relationship is Icy at Mob Leak Trial
Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose sat in federal court on Thursday to hear lawyers portray him two ways:
An honorable screw-up hoping to impress an Outfit-friendly father figure, or a criminal conduit to reputed Chicago mob boss John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Either way the jury decides, the relationship between the U.S. marshal's office and the FBI is at best icy these days, though they won't formally admit it. But you could see the two tribes in the gallery in U.S. District Judge John Grady's courtroom, sitting stiffly as if in church at a wedding, the in-laws glaring, already at war.
The marshals in their street clothes, shoulders hunched, not happy, sitting behind their man Ambrose. The FBI agents and prosecutors impassive, across the aisle, sitting behind their team.
The cause of the deep freeze? Ambrose himself.
Ambrose has been charged with leaking extremely sensitive information to the mob about the most important federal witness in Chicago's history -- turncoat Outfit hit man Nicholas Calabrese. And with lying about it to federal agents until he later confessed to the FBI about what he'd done. But according to his lawyer Frank Lipuma, all Ambrose really confessed to was screwing up, bragging to a family friend that he was protecting a major Outfit witness.
Ambrose's friend was William Guide, a former crooked cop with Outfit connections, who spent time in prison, convicted with Ambrose's father, Thomas, in the Marquette 10 police drug dealer shakedown scandal.
What Ambrose said about Calabrese ended up in recorded prison conversations beginning in January 2003 between Mickey Marcello and his Outfit boss brother Jimmy.
What also came out during the trial is that Ambrose apparently thought that by leaking a little information, he could win favor from the Outfit and use their street network as a source of information to find fugitives.
At least, that was his story as told to senior FBI agents Anita Stamat and Ted McNamara when they finally caught him in 2006.
The International Olympic Committee might not know this, so don't tell them, but Chicago has a history of law enforcement conduits to the mob. The job has been held by many -- a patrol officer in the evidence section, hit men in the Cook County Sheriff's office, even the chief of detectives of the Chicago Police Department.
Since the time of Paul Ricca, the Outfit has had puppets, in politics, on the bench, in business and law enforcement. That's how it survives, while politically unsophisticated street gangs suffer legal troubles. And what was so unique about Ambrose is that he was a federal law enforcement officer guarding a federal witness.
"He screwed up ... shot his mouth off," said Lipuma, a former federal prosecutor himself, in a riveting closing argument, full of passion, trying to poke holes in the case. "John Ambrose admitted he broke policy. He broke procedure. It may have been a violation of policy. ... But he's an honest man."
Prosecutor Markus Funk was once the new guy on the federal organized crime team. But now he's the veteran, with the most significant convictions in Chicago history under his belt: Jimmy Marcello, Joey "The Clown" Lombardo and others from the Family Secrets trial.
"This is straightforward theft," Funk told the jury. "The defense is throwing up these vast smoke screens to confuse you. He confessed. Not once, not twice, but three times. He shot his mouth off? There was no criminal intent? He admitted it. That's not a legal defense. That's a crime."
The defense also brought my column up again, the one of Feb. 21, 2003, that broke the story that Nick Calabrese had disappeared from prison and speculated (correctly) that he was in the witness protection program.
Lipuma said the column was the "linchpin" of the defense because after it ran, Calabrese's cooperation was common knowledge. But a month before the column was published, Jimmy and Mickey Marcello were already talking about Calabrese's federal "baby-sitter" funneling information to them.
If Ambrose were, say, a plumber, you might excuse him for screwing up and talking about a federal witness to an Outfit messenger boy.
A plumber might be excused, because a plumber wouldn't be expected to know about witness protection. But Ambrose is no plumber, is he?
He's a deputy U.S. marshal.
For now.
Thanks to John Kass
An honorable screw-up hoping to impress an Outfit-friendly father figure, or a criminal conduit to reputed Chicago mob boss John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Either way the jury decides, the relationship between the U.S. marshal's office and the FBI is at best icy these days, though they won't formally admit it. But you could see the two tribes in the gallery in U.S. District Judge John Grady's courtroom, sitting stiffly as if in church at a wedding, the in-laws glaring, already at war.
The marshals in their street clothes, shoulders hunched, not happy, sitting behind their man Ambrose. The FBI agents and prosecutors impassive, across the aisle, sitting behind their team.
The cause of the deep freeze? Ambrose himself.
Ambrose has been charged with leaking extremely sensitive information to the mob about the most important federal witness in Chicago's history -- turncoat Outfit hit man Nicholas Calabrese. And with lying about it to federal agents until he later confessed to the FBI about what he'd done. But according to his lawyer Frank Lipuma, all Ambrose really confessed to was screwing up, bragging to a family friend that he was protecting a major Outfit witness.
Ambrose's friend was William Guide, a former crooked cop with Outfit connections, who spent time in prison, convicted with Ambrose's father, Thomas, in the Marquette 10 police drug dealer shakedown scandal.
What Ambrose said about Calabrese ended up in recorded prison conversations beginning in January 2003 between Mickey Marcello and his Outfit boss brother Jimmy.
What also came out during the trial is that Ambrose apparently thought that by leaking a little information, he could win favor from the Outfit and use their street network as a source of information to find fugitives.
At least, that was his story as told to senior FBI agents Anita Stamat and Ted McNamara when they finally caught him in 2006.
The International Olympic Committee might not know this, so don't tell them, but Chicago has a history of law enforcement conduits to the mob. The job has been held by many -- a patrol officer in the evidence section, hit men in the Cook County Sheriff's office, even the chief of detectives of the Chicago Police Department.
Since the time of Paul Ricca, the Outfit has had puppets, in politics, on the bench, in business and law enforcement. That's how it survives, while politically unsophisticated street gangs suffer legal troubles. And what was so unique about Ambrose is that he was a federal law enforcement officer guarding a federal witness.
"He screwed up ... shot his mouth off," said Lipuma, a former federal prosecutor himself, in a riveting closing argument, full of passion, trying to poke holes in the case. "John Ambrose admitted he broke policy. He broke procedure. It may have been a violation of policy. ... But he's an honest man."
Prosecutor Markus Funk was once the new guy on the federal organized crime team. But now he's the veteran, with the most significant convictions in Chicago history under his belt: Jimmy Marcello, Joey "The Clown" Lombardo and others from the Family Secrets trial.
"This is straightforward theft," Funk told the jury. "The defense is throwing up these vast smoke screens to confuse you. He confessed. Not once, not twice, but three times. He shot his mouth off? There was no criminal intent? He admitted it. That's not a legal defense. That's a crime."
The defense also brought my column up again, the one of Feb. 21, 2003, that broke the story that Nick Calabrese had disappeared from prison and speculated (correctly) that he was in the witness protection program.
Lipuma said the column was the "linchpin" of the defense because after it ran, Calabrese's cooperation was common knowledge. But a month before the column was published, Jimmy and Mickey Marcello were already talking about Calabrese's federal "baby-sitter" funneling information to them.
If Ambrose were, say, a plumber, you might excuse him for screwing up and talking about a federal witness to an Outfit messenger boy.
A plumber might be excused, because a plumber wouldn't be expected to know about witness protection. But Ambrose is no plumber, is he?
He's a deputy U.S. marshal.
For now.
Thanks to John Kass
Deliberations Begin in Mob Leak Trial
As federal jurors began deliberating Thursday in the trial of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose, one of many questions they faced was the value of a revealed secret.
In their final pitches of the nine-day trial, attorneys argued over whether Ambrose shared minimal information while bragging to a family friend or spilled sensitive details that might have crippled the Family Secrets mob investigation in its infancy.
Ambrose is charged with leaking details about the secret cooperation of hit man-turned-witness Nicholas Calabrese that ended up in the hands of the Chicago Outfit. Calabrese's crucial testimony in the 2007 Family Secrets trial resulted in murder convictions and life sentences for several Chicago mobsters.
In a series of FBI interviews in 2006, Ambrose admitted telling family friend William Guide about Calabrese's cooperation after twice working on his witness protection security detail in 2002 and 2003.
"Any release of information is critical. It puts people at risk," said Assistant U.S. Atty. Diane MacArthur. "A person doesn't know the world into which that information is being released. There's no way to judge its impact and what harm it may cause."
But Ambrose's attorney, Francis Lipuma, argued Thursday to the jury that his client had no criminal intent in telling Guide about "the big OC guy" he was guarding and had merely "shot his mouth off" to impress a man he looked up to as a father figure. "Police officers are humans like the rest of us," Lipuma said. "They make mistakes."
Criticizing the investigation as full of "major holes," Lipuma attacked the trial's highest-profile witnesses -- U.S. Atty. Patrick Fitzgerald and FBI Special Agent-in-Charge Robert Grant -- for inconsistent testimony about Ambrose's initial, unrecorded FBI interview.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
In their final pitches of the nine-day trial, attorneys argued over whether Ambrose shared minimal information while bragging to a family friend or spilled sensitive details that might have crippled the Family Secrets mob investigation in its infancy.
Ambrose is charged with leaking details about the secret cooperation of hit man-turned-witness Nicholas Calabrese that ended up in the hands of the Chicago Outfit. Calabrese's crucial testimony in the 2007 Family Secrets trial resulted in murder convictions and life sentences for several Chicago mobsters.
In a series of FBI interviews in 2006, Ambrose admitted telling family friend William Guide about Calabrese's cooperation after twice working on his witness protection security detail in 2002 and 2003.
"Any release of information is critical. It puts people at risk," said Assistant U.S. Atty. Diane MacArthur. "A person doesn't know the world into which that information is being released. There's no way to judge its impact and what harm it may cause."
But Ambrose's attorney, Francis Lipuma, argued Thursday to the jury that his client had no criminal intent in telling Guide about "the big OC guy" he was guarding and had merely "shot his mouth off" to impress a man he looked up to as a father figure. "Police officers are humans like the rest of us," Lipuma said. "They make mistakes."
Criticizing the investigation as full of "major holes," Lipuma attacked the trial's highest-profile witnesses -- U.S. Atty. Patrick Fitzgerald and FBI Special Agent-in-Charge Robert Grant -- for inconsistent testimony about Ambrose's initial, unrecorded FBI interview.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Pizza King Phone Call Highlights Testimony in U.S. Marshal Mob Witness Protection Program Trial
A 14-minute phone call by Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose to a pizza restaurant owned by a family friend with reputed organized-crime ties highlighted the final day of prosecution testimony at Ambrose's trial Tuesday.
FBI Special Agent Edward McNamara testified that phone records showed Ambrose placed a call to The Pizza King, a South Side restaurant owned by his friend William Guide, hours after his second secret detail protecting mob witness Nicholas Calabrese ended. But Ambrose told agents in two 2006 interviews that he didn't speak to Guide until he happened to bump into him weeks after that detail ended, McNamara said.
Ambrose is accused of leaking Calabrese's secret cooperation early in the Family Secrets investigation to Guide, knowing organized crime would learn the details.
McNamara testified that Ambrose admitted telling Guide about Calabrese's visits to Chicago in the hope that Guide would help him track organized-crime fugitives in the future.
At a 2002 wrestling meet, Ambrose told agents, he "boasted" to Guide about protecting a prominent organized-crime witness, McNamara testified. On the second occasion, he told Guide that investigators had driven Calabrese to sites of several decades-old mob slayings.
The first two defense witnesses, Ambrose's colleagues in the Marshals Service, said they had used The Pizza King as a "staging area" for operations while Ambrose served on the fugitive warrant unit. Both praised Ambrose's honesty. "I would trust my life with him," said Supervisory Deputy Marshal Matt Block.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
FBI Special Agent Edward McNamara testified that phone records showed Ambrose placed a call to The Pizza King, a South Side restaurant owned by his friend William Guide, hours after his second secret detail protecting mob witness Nicholas Calabrese ended. But Ambrose told agents in two 2006 interviews that he didn't speak to Guide until he happened to bump into him weeks after that detail ended, McNamara said.
Ambrose is accused of leaking Calabrese's secret cooperation early in the Family Secrets investigation to Guide, knowing organized crime would learn the details.
McNamara testified that Ambrose admitted telling Guide about Calabrese's visits to Chicago in the hope that Guide would help him track organized-crime fugitives in the future.
At a 2002 wrestling meet, Ambrose told agents, he "boasted" to Guide about protecting a prominent organized-crime witness, McNamara testified. On the second occasion, he told Guide that investigators had driven Calabrese to sites of several decades-old mob slayings.
The first two defense witnesses, Ambrose's colleagues in the Marshals Service, said they had used The Pizza King as a "staging area" for operations while Ambrose served on the fugitive warrant unit. Both praised Ambrose's honesty. "I would trust my life with him," said Supervisory Deputy Marshal Matt Block.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
The Mafia Has Been Replaced by Mexian Drug Cartels as the #1 Organized Crime Threat to the United States
Mexican drug cartels have displaced the mafia as the "number one organized crime threat" in the United States, Sen. Joe Lieberman said Monday as his Senate committee heard testimony in Phoenix on border violence.
Lieberman, an independent Democrat from Connecticut, and Sen. John McCain, a Republican on Lieberman's panel, told FOX News that the United States needs to step up the fight against the drug cartels. The two senators were in Arizona, McCain's home state, to hear from local officials on their advice for dealing with the drug-fueled violence many fear is spilling across the border.
"This is literally a war," said Lieberman, chairman of the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee. "They're fighting for the turf."
Lieberman has said he plans to seek $380 million in additional funding to help law enforcement stop the flow of guns and drugs across the border. On Monday, he praised Mexican President Felipe Calderon's campaign to fight the cartels, but said cartels have already taken root north of the border -- driving a kidnapping surge in Phoenix and operating, he said, in at least 230 U.S. metropolitan areas.
"The Mexican drug cartels have become the number one organized crime threat in America, displacing the mafia," Lieberman told FOX News.
McCain said the federal government needs to approve border states' requests for more National Guard troops, something Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano has said is under review.
"I think we can have significant control of our border," McCain said. "We should heed the governors who are having to fight this ... all the time."
But Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer said the Department of Defense has effectively denied her request to send 250 additional National Guard troops to the Arizona-Mexico border to help authorities battle immigrant and drug smuggling and related violence.
The governor told Lieberman's committee meeting Monday that she was disappointed with the denial of her request to bring the number of troops at her state's southern boundary up to 400. One hundred fifty troops are already there as part of a long-standing border assistance program.
The Bush administration sent thousands of Guard troops to the border to perform support duties so that federal border authorities would be freed up to focus on border security. Bush's buildup began in 2006 and ended last year.
Thanks to Fox News
Lieberman, an independent Democrat from Connecticut, and Sen. John McCain, a Republican on Lieberman's panel, told FOX News that the United States needs to step up the fight against the drug cartels. The two senators were in Arizona, McCain's home state, to hear from local officials on their advice for dealing with the drug-fueled violence many fear is spilling across the border.
"This is literally a war," said Lieberman, chairman of the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee. "They're fighting for the turf."
Lieberman has said he plans to seek $380 million in additional funding to help law enforcement stop the flow of guns and drugs across the border. On Monday, he praised Mexican President Felipe Calderon's campaign to fight the cartels, but said cartels have already taken root north of the border -- driving a kidnapping surge in Phoenix and operating, he said, in at least 230 U.S. metropolitan areas.
"The Mexican drug cartels have become the number one organized crime threat in America, displacing the mafia," Lieberman told FOX News.
McCain said the federal government needs to approve border states' requests for more National Guard troops, something Homeland Security Secretary Janet Napolitano has said is under review.
"I think we can have significant control of our border," McCain said. "We should heed the governors who are having to fight this ... all the time."
But Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer said the Department of Defense has effectively denied her request to send 250 additional National Guard troops to the Arizona-Mexico border to help authorities battle immigrant and drug smuggling and related violence.
The governor told Lieberman's committee meeting Monday that she was disappointed with the denial of her request to bring the number of troops at her state's southern boundary up to 400. One hundred fifty troops are already there as part of a long-standing border assistance program.
The Bush administration sent thousands of Guard troops to the border to perform support duties so that federal border authorities would be freed up to focus on border security. Bush's buildup began in 2006 and ended last year.
Thanks to Fox News
Mexican Drug Cartels Working with Italian Mobsters
Mexican drug traffickers are funneling cocaine to Italian organized crime, and some shipments are moving through Dallas.
"We've got some of the major cartel members established here dealing their wares in Europe," said James Capra, head of the Drug Enforcement Administration's Dallas office.
Experts say warring cartels battered by unprecedented U.S. and Mexican government crackdowns are increasingly looking to Europe as an expansion market. Across the Atlantic, demand for cocaine is high and prices are up. A kilo sold for $20,000 in Dallas is worth up to three times as much overseas, experts say.
Mexican cartel operatives in North Texas "are dealing with Italy, Spain, you name it," he said. "They can operate their logistical center from here and coordinate between Mexico, Central America and Europe."
Italian capos are venturing to North Texas to get in on the action, says one mob expert.
"Places like Houston and Dallas are where these criminal organizations are most likely to invest their money," said Antonio Nicaso, an internationally recognized author and lecturer on Italian organized crime. "This is the right time, with the recession going on."
Dallas has long been a recognized distribution hub for drugs smuggled up the Interstate 35 corridor from Laredo. From here, narcotics head out across the country to Atlanta, Chicago, New England and elsewhere.
The revelation that the cartels are forming alliances with Italian syndicates came last year when the DEA revealed that the Mexican Gulf cartel, which supplies Dallas with cocaine, was working with New York associates of the powerful Italian 'Ndrangheta mafia.
Last August, the DEA arrested a Dallas County jailer accused of tipping off drug dealers to what appeared to be a small-time local narcotics conspiracy. The jailer, Brenda Medina Salinas, has pleaded guilty and is awaiting sentencing. As others pleaded guilty and court documents piled up, it became clear that the drug pipeline in that case reached all the way to Europe and the clandestine world of the Camorra.
The Naples-based Camorra traces its roots to the 16th century. Ruthlessly violent when they need to be, Camorra members often smuggle behind quiet business fronts. They're known to work across ethnic and political lines.
Relatively little is known about the local Camorra associate, other than that he had ties to Dallas, Houston and Mexico. The Camorra associate was not charged in the case because agents had not developed enough information to nab him when they were forced to act because of Salinas' leaking information to co-conspirators.
Agents learned the Camorra associate's name last May. That's when DEA agents monitoring a meeting between him and his local contacts asked Dallas police to pull over the Camorra associate's car and check his identity.
He had just met with Higinio "Gino" Hernandez, a 30-year-old flooring installer from Carrollton, and Altin Kore, a 32-year-old Dallas man also charged in conspiracy. Kore is charged in the case but is a fugitive. Hernandez has pleaded guilty.
The DEA began investigating the Hernandez network after being tipped by Italian authorities in the fall of 2007. Their wiretaps on Camorra associates in Italy revealed a Dallas cocaine supplier.
Higinio Hernandez was close to his brother Henry "Tito" Hernandez, 34, of Dallas, who has also pleaded guilty. A third brother, Luis, 35, has been charged but is a fugitive.
Henry and Higinio worked for years as flooring installer subcontractors for Carpet One in Southlake.
"They were leading a double life," said prosecutor Ernest Gonzalez in Plano. "They were doing flooring by day, and at night they were conducting these drug transactions."
It was obvious to those around them that laying floors was not their only source of income.
When they were arrested last fall, federal agents seized Higinio's Cadillac Escalade and Lexus IS30, as well as Henry's Escalade.
Henry and Luis kept snapshots of themselves partying in limos with friends, booze and women. They also had dealings in Cuba, authorities say.
"They didn't hide their money," Gonzalez said.
Authorities say Higinio's supplier in Mexico was half brother Rodolfo Lopez, 35, another fugitive charged in the case.
While living in the U.S., Lopez forged the relationship with the Camorra associate and dealt with cocaine producers in Colombia and elsewhere, authorities say. Lopez eventually relocated to Mexico, where authorities say he directed shipments to his brothers in Dallas.
From Dallas, the cocaine was taken to Houston, where the Camorra associate operated a scented candle export business. It took about a month for the cocaine, smuggled amongst the candles, to make the voyage across the Atlantic to Italy.
Major ports attract Italian organized crime syndicates, which operate in at least 19 U.S. cities, according to the Justice Department's latest Drug Threat Assessment.
The Hernandez case is considered somewhat of an anomaly among law enforcement. Federal agents for years have said that the mafia has no significant grip here.
Still, after a lull, mob influence nationwide seems to be increasing, experts say. Much of their work is partnering with the Mexican distributors and Colombian producers and supplying Europe with cocaine.
It's a good time to expand to Europe, as crackdowns on both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border have made smuggling cocaine into Texas increasingly difficult. In the past year, authorities have arrested more than 500 Gulf Cartel and 750 rival Sinaloa Cartel members here and in Mexico.
Extraditions of Mexican narcos to the U.S. for prosecution are on the rise under President Felipe Calderón, who has deployed military troops to quell violence in border towns.
Still, a downside to dabbling in international markets is the increased scrutiny by a larger net of law enforcement agencies – which is what stopped the Hernandez ring.
Last spring, DEA agents in Dallas learned that a meeting was to take place between Higinio and the Camorra associate. On May 15, agents set up surveillance at a Chili's restaurant on Knox Street in Dallas.
It was not a pleasant meeting for Higinio. DEA agents were watching as the Italian poked a finger in his chest. The cocaine they were selling wasn't pure enough, he told Hernandez. Customers were complaining. After the meeting, Higinio reached out to his brother, Henry, to see if his own supplier, Moises Duarte, could get purer powder. But agents were forced to swoop in before any more cocaine made it to Italy.
The reason: Brenda Salinas. The 23-year-old befriended Henry Hernandez and Duarte on the club scene in Dallas, and eventually dated both men.
As a jailer with Dallas County, she had access to law enforcement databases. In July, when agents learned that she was feeding both men information, DEA agents felt they had to act. They arrested Duarte and set up stings on his cohorts.
So far, nine defendants – including Salinas – have pleaded guilty. Among them is an Albanian financial consultant from Dallas. He has ties to an ex-stockbroker being investigated by the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission in connection with an alleged pump-and-dump stock scam.
According to the DEA, the investigation is ongoing.
Thanks to Jason Trahan
"We've got some of the major cartel members established here dealing their wares in Europe," said James Capra, head of the Drug Enforcement Administration's Dallas office.
Experts say warring cartels battered by unprecedented U.S. and Mexican government crackdowns are increasingly looking to Europe as an expansion market. Across the Atlantic, demand for cocaine is high and prices are up. A kilo sold for $20,000 in Dallas is worth up to three times as much overseas, experts say.
Mexican cartel operatives in North Texas "are dealing with Italy, Spain, you name it," he said. "They can operate their logistical center from here and coordinate between Mexico, Central America and Europe."
Italian capos are venturing to North Texas to get in on the action, says one mob expert.
"Places like Houston and Dallas are where these criminal organizations are most likely to invest their money," said Antonio Nicaso, an internationally recognized author and lecturer on Italian organized crime. "This is the right time, with the recession going on."
Dallas has long been a recognized distribution hub for drugs smuggled up the Interstate 35 corridor from Laredo. From here, narcotics head out across the country to Atlanta, Chicago, New England and elsewhere.
The revelation that the cartels are forming alliances with Italian syndicates came last year when the DEA revealed that the Mexican Gulf cartel, which supplies Dallas with cocaine, was working with New York associates of the powerful Italian 'Ndrangheta mafia.
Last August, the DEA arrested a Dallas County jailer accused of tipping off drug dealers to what appeared to be a small-time local narcotics conspiracy. The jailer, Brenda Medina Salinas, has pleaded guilty and is awaiting sentencing. As others pleaded guilty and court documents piled up, it became clear that the drug pipeline in that case reached all the way to Europe and the clandestine world of the Camorra.
The Naples-based Camorra traces its roots to the 16th century. Ruthlessly violent when they need to be, Camorra members often smuggle behind quiet business fronts. They're known to work across ethnic and political lines.
Relatively little is known about the local Camorra associate, other than that he had ties to Dallas, Houston and Mexico. The Camorra associate was not charged in the case because agents had not developed enough information to nab him when they were forced to act because of Salinas' leaking information to co-conspirators.
Agents learned the Camorra associate's name last May. That's when DEA agents monitoring a meeting between him and his local contacts asked Dallas police to pull over the Camorra associate's car and check his identity.
He had just met with Higinio "Gino" Hernandez, a 30-year-old flooring installer from Carrollton, and Altin Kore, a 32-year-old Dallas man also charged in conspiracy. Kore is charged in the case but is a fugitive. Hernandez has pleaded guilty.
The DEA began investigating the Hernandez network after being tipped by Italian authorities in the fall of 2007. Their wiretaps on Camorra associates in Italy revealed a Dallas cocaine supplier.
Higinio Hernandez was close to his brother Henry "Tito" Hernandez, 34, of Dallas, who has also pleaded guilty. A third brother, Luis, 35, has been charged but is a fugitive.
Henry and Higinio worked for years as flooring installer subcontractors for Carpet One in Southlake.
"They were leading a double life," said prosecutor Ernest Gonzalez in Plano. "They were doing flooring by day, and at night they were conducting these drug transactions."
It was obvious to those around them that laying floors was not their only source of income.
When they were arrested last fall, federal agents seized Higinio's Cadillac Escalade and Lexus IS30, as well as Henry's Escalade.
Henry and Luis kept snapshots of themselves partying in limos with friends, booze and women. They also had dealings in Cuba, authorities say.
"They didn't hide their money," Gonzalez said.
Authorities say Higinio's supplier in Mexico was half brother Rodolfo Lopez, 35, another fugitive charged in the case.
While living in the U.S., Lopez forged the relationship with the Camorra associate and dealt with cocaine producers in Colombia and elsewhere, authorities say. Lopez eventually relocated to Mexico, where authorities say he directed shipments to his brothers in Dallas.
From Dallas, the cocaine was taken to Houston, where the Camorra associate operated a scented candle export business. It took about a month for the cocaine, smuggled amongst the candles, to make the voyage across the Atlantic to Italy.
Major ports attract Italian organized crime syndicates, which operate in at least 19 U.S. cities, according to the Justice Department's latest Drug Threat Assessment.
The Hernandez case is considered somewhat of an anomaly among law enforcement. Federal agents for years have said that the mafia has no significant grip here.
Still, after a lull, mob influence nationwide seems to be increasing, experts say. Much of their work is partnering with the Mexican distributors and Colombian producers and supplying Europe with cocaine.
It's a good time to expand to Europe, as crackdowns on both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border have made smuggling cocaine into Texas increasingly difficult. In the past year, authorities have arrested more than 500 Gulf Cartel and 750 rival Sinaloa Cartel members here and in Mexico.
Extraditions of Mexican narcos to the U.S. for prosecution are on the rise under President Felipe Calderón, who has deployed military troops to quell violence in border towns.
Still, a downside to dabbling in international markets is the increased scrutiny by a larger net of law enforcement agencies – which is what stopped the Hernandez ring.
Last spring, DEA agents in Dallas learned that a meeting was to take place between Higinio and the Camorra associate. On May 15, agents set up surveillance at a Chili's restaurant on Knox Street in Dallas.
It was not a pleasant meeting for Higinio. DEA agents were watching as the Italian poked a finger in his chest. The cocaine they were selling wasn't pure enough, he told Hernandez. Customers were complaining. After the meeting, Higinio reached out to his brother, Henry, to see if his own supplier, Moises Duarte, could get purer powder. But agents were forced to swoop in before any more cocaine made it to Italy.
The reason: Brenda Salinas. The 23-year-old befriended Henry Hernandez and Duarte on the club scene in Dallas, and eventually dated both men.
As a jailer with Dallas County, she had access to law enforcement databases. In July, when agents learned that she was feeding both men information, DEA agents felt they had to act. They arrested Duarte and set up stings on his cohorts.
So far, nine defendants – including Salinas – have pleaded guilty. Among them is an Albanian financial consultant from Dallas. He has ties to an ex-stockbroker being investigated by the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission in connection with an alleged pump-and-dump stock scam.
According to the DEA, the investigation is ongoing.
Thanks to Jason Trahan
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Top FBI Agent in Chicago Testifies that U.S. Marshal Admited He "Made a Huge Mistake"
Chicago's top FBI agent testified today that a deputy U.S. marshal accused of leaking secrets to the mob admitted to federal lawmen that he "made a huge mistake."
Robert Grant is the special agent in charge of the FBI's Chicago office. He testified in the trial of John T. Ambrose, who's on unpaid leave.
Grant says that Ambrose made the admissions in an emotional confrontation.
He says Ambrose initially denied the allegations, then decided he wanted to cooperate and admitted he was friends with people he shouldn't have been.
The 42-year-old Ambrose is charged with leaking information about a key witness in the FBI's Operation Family Secrets investigation - the biggest Chicago mob case in years.
The trial is now going into its second week.
Thanks to WBBM 780
Robert Grant is the special agent in charge of the FBI's Chicago office. He testified in the trial of John T. Ambrose, who's on unpaid leave.
Grant says that Ambrose made the admissions in an emotional confrontation.
He says Ambrose initially denied the allegations, then decided he wanted to cooperate and admitted he was friends with people he shouldn't have been.
The 42-year-old Ambrose is charged with leaking information about a key witness in the FBI's Operation Family Secrets investigation - the biggest Chicago mob case in years.
The trial is now going into its second week.
Thanks to WBBM 780
Monday, April 20, 2009
U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitgerald Testifes at Trial of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose
U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald 
testified today that the carotid artery in Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose’s neck was pulsating with stress when he was told in 2006 that he was suspected of leaking sensitive information to the mob.
Fitzgerald and Robert Grant, director of the FBI’s Chicago office, confronted Ambrose after getting him to come to the FBI’s office on a ruse.
They told Ambrose they were trying to catch a fugitive terrorist and needed his help. But their actual plan was to let him know he was a suspected leaker, show how seriously they took the security breach in the Witness Security Program and then have Ambrose speak to FBI agents.
"I understood this was the first compromise of the witness protection program," Fitzgerald testified in Ambrose’s trial on charges of leaking information from mob informant Nicholas Calabrese’s secret files.
The files were kept in a safe location where Calabrese was being held in 2002 and 2003 to provide information about mob murders. Ambrose guarded Calabrese on those occasions.
Fitzgerald said he and Grant asked Ambrose to meet them at the FBI headquarters near Roosevelt and Damen to get him away from the federal building downtown. They knew the FBI would ask him to surrender his gun and cell phone when he entered the building. They were concerned what his reaction might be to the investigation — since his own father was convicted in federal court in the 1980s in the Marquette 10 police corruption scandal, Fitzgerald said.
Sitting in a large conference room, Fitzgerald recalled Grant telling Ambrose that his fingerprints were on a secret Calabrese witness file.
"I remember he was very stressed," Fitzgerald said. "The carotid artery on his neck was throbbing."
Initially, Ambrose told Fitzgerald and Grant that he did not know what they were talking about.
Later, he said he would never sell out his badge — and did not take any money. But he did tell them he spoke about his witness security details with a family friend, William Guide, who also went to prison in the Marquette 10 scandal with Ambrose’s late father, according to Fitzgerald.
After Calabrese had visited the Chicago area in 2002 while under witness protection, Ambrose called Guide and told him, "I was working with a witness who was in the Outfit at a very interesting time," Fitzgerald testified.
Ambrose recalled that Guide answered, "Is there anything I need to know?" Fitzgerald testified.
Fitzgerald said Ambrose thought Guide wanted to know if Calabrese was giving up any information on reputed mob boss John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Ambrose recalled telling Guide he did not know, Fitzgerald testified.
Ambrose then told Fitzgerald and Grant that he had spoken to Guide again after Calabrese’s second visit to Chicago in 2003 when he was taken around the Chicago area to point out crime scenes. Among those places was a parking lot near Sox Park where Calabrese said bodies were buried by the mob.
Ambrose allegedly admitted that he told Guide he took Calabrese to Sox Park — even though Ambrose did not handle that part of Calabrese’s security detail, Fitzgerald said.
Afterward, Ambrose said: "I broke all the rules... but I had no criminal intent," Fitzgerald said.
He also said, "I f----- up I shot my mouth off, but not like you think," Fitzgerald testified.
After the confrontation with Fitzgerald and Grant, Ambrose asked to meet with an uncle who works security for the federal courthouse downtown, as well as two top marshals officials.
He was allowed to speak to those three men. Then Fitzgerald left Ambrose at the FBI building and went back to the federal courthouse in downtown Chicago.
Fitzgerald said he sat in the spectators’ section of a courtroom where Gov. George Ryan was being sentenced in his corruption case. As he watched the sentencing, Fitzgerald took down the notes from his interview with Ambrose, he said.
Thanks to Frank Main
testified today that the carotid artery in Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose’s neck was pulsating with stress when he was told in 2006 that he was suspected of leaking sensitive information to the mob.Fitzgerald and Robert Grant, director of the FBI’s Chicago office, confronted Ambrose after getting him to come to the FBI’s office on a ruse.
They told Ambrose they were trying to catch a fugitive terrorist and needed his help. But their actual plan was to let him know he was a suspected leaker, show how seriously they took the security breach in the Witness Security Program and then have Ambrose speak to FBI agents.
"I understood this was the first compromise of the witness protection program," Fitzgerald testified in Ambrose’s trial on charges of leaking information from mob informant Nicholas Calabrese’s secret files.
The files were kept in a safe location where Calabrese was being held in 2002 and 2003 to provide information about mob murders. Ambrose guarded Calabrese on those occasions.
Fitzgerald said he and Grant asked Ambrose to meet them at the FBI headquarters near Roosevelt and Damen to get him away from the federal building downtown. They knew the FBI would ask him to surrender his gun and cell phone when he entered the building. They were concerned what his reaction might be to the investigation — since his own father was convicted in federal court in the 1980s in the Marquette 10 police corruption scandal, Fitzgerald said.
Sitting in a large conference room, Fitzgerald recalled Grant telling Ambrose that his fingerprints were on a secret Calabrese witness file.
"I remember he was very stressed," Fitzgerald said. "The carotid artery on his neck was throbbing."
Initially, Ambrose told Fitzgerald and Grant that he did not know what they were talking about.
Later, he said he would never sell out his badge — and did not take any money. But he did tell them he spoke about his witness security details with a family friend, William Guide, who also went to prison in the Marquette 10 scandal with Ambrose’s late father, according to Fitzgerald.
After Calabrese had visited the Chicago area in 2002 while under witness protection, Ambrose called Guide and told him, "I was working with a witness who was in the Outfit at a very interesting time," Fitzgerald testified.
Ambrose recalled that Guide answered, "Is there anything I need to know?" Fitzgerald testified.
Fitzgerald said Ambrose thought Guide wanted to know if Calabrese was giving up any information on reputed mob boss John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Ambrose recalled telling Guide he did not know, Fitzgerald testified.
Ambrose then told Fitzgerald and Grant that he had spoken to Guide again after Calabrese’s second visit to Chicago in 2003 when he was taken around the Chicago area to point out crime scenes. Among those places was a parking lot near Sox Park where Calabrese said bodies were buried by the mob.
Ambrose allegedly admitted that he told Guide he took Calabrese to Sox Park — even though Ambrose did not handle that part of Calabrese’s security detail, Fitzgerald said.
Afterward, Ambrose said: "I broke all the rules... but I had no criminal intent," Fitzgerald said.
He also said, "I f----- up I shot my mouth off, but not like you think," Fitzgerald testified.
After the confrontation with Fitzgerald and Grant, Ambrose asked to meet with an uncle who works security for the federal courthouse downtown, as well as two top marshals officials.
He was allowed to speak to those three men. Then Fitzgerald left Ambrose at the FBI building and went back to the federal courthouse in downtown Chicago.
Fitzgerald said he sat in the spectators’ section of a courtroom where Gov. George Ryan was being sentenced in his corruption case. As he watched the sentencing, Fitzgerald took down the notes from his interview with Ambrose, he said.
Thanks to Frank Main
John "Bulldog" Drummond - It Ain't Pretty, But It's Real
Veteran Chicago newsman John Drummond was covering the trial of some mob henchman when they started giving the snap-brimmed, stogie-chewing reporter a hard time.
Drummond didn't miss a beat. "I turned around and said, 'Hey, we're trying to get your point of the story, but you guys aren't talking. I've got a camera guy down in the lobby. Let's settle it right now. We'll be glad to talk to you.'"
The ne'er-do-wells didn't take Drummond up on his offer. But during a broadcast career that spanned more than four decades, the straight-talking WBBM-Channel 2 reporter nicknamed "Bulldog" scored the inside scoop on many of the area's most notorious crimes and the thugs who often left behind their fingerprints.
In his second book, "It Ain't Pretty, but It's Real," Drummond shares more tales of murder and mayhem in a follow-up to "Thirty Years in the Trenches Covering Crooks, Characters and Capers," released in 1998, which sold about 5,000 copies.
"I felt when I finished the first one I still had a lot good stories to tell," said Drummond, 79, in his trademark baritone voice, before a book signing at the Villa Park library. "Our book has no fabricated quotations. It's all real."
It includes nearly two dozen colorful vignettes, beginning with the haunting 1972 kidnapping of a Hillside police officer who was killed in Villa Park. His murder led to technological advances in suburban police radio equipment.
Drummond shares his encounters with notorious horseman Silas Jayne, who among his long list of crimes was convicted of conspiracy in his brother's October 1970 fatal shooting in Inverness. Jayne long was rumored to be involved in the still-unsolved 1977 disappearance of candy heiress Helen Vorhees Brach.
"He was a fascinating individual whether you liked him or not," Drummond said. "If you did him wrong, he believed in physical retribution, not litigation; he felt something had to be done and done ruthlessly."
Drummond also tells of other unsolved mysteries he covered, such as when 14-year-old Barbara Glueckert of Mount Prospect vanished in 1976 after attending a rock concert, never to be seen again. In a less notorious case, but just as mysterious, Arlington Heights couple Edward Andrews and his wife, Stephania, disappeared after leaving a cocktail party at the former Sheraton Chicago hotel in 1970. Their bodies still haven't been found.
Drummond, a kid from west-central Wisconsin infatuated with Chicago's big city tales and the lure of television, covered crime, politics and sports and had one-on-one's with presidents Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan.
He was there when the city was rocked by the riots following Dr. Martin Luther King's assassination and the violence that erupted during the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, as well as the federal 1985 Greylord indictment linking Chicago judges to corruption. But the former U.S. Air Force veteran and radio broadcaster is best known for his work in front of the camera sniffing out leads on the Chicago Outfit. He even came out of semiretirement for the recent Family Secrets trial.
Drummond said the terrorists and mentally ill subjects he's covered posed far more of a threat than the mobsters he's known.
"The Outfit was very well disciplined in its heyday," he said. "It would have been counterproductive to kill or assault a news reporter because it would have put too much heat on the mob. We sort of had diplomatic immunity."
Drummond not only covered colorful characters with true grit, in his checkered sport coats and on-air lexicons, such as "coppers" for police or boxing terms like "palooka," but made for an interesting story himself. He's even made cameos in movies such as, "The Fugitive," "Chain Reaction," and "Above the Law," in which he played himself.
Inducted into the Chicago Journalism Hall of Fame in 1997, his artfully weathered face and delivery never changed during a period of blow-dried, cookie-cutter television personalities. He outlasted nearly two dozen news directors during his Channel 2 tenure, which began in 1969.
One of his favorite spots was the "Chicago Chronicles" series that ran three times a week on the 6 p.m. news and featured stories on everyone from a prize fighter to cabbie to bartender to mobster to stripper. His sign off was, "You won't read about them in the Chicago guidebooks or travel brochures."
Drummond left the daily grind in 1995, but "Bulldog" said he still has plenty of good stories to tell. He delayed promotion for his second book after his beloved wife, Carol, with whom he raised three children during their 48-year marriage, died in October after a 10-year cancer battle.
"I survived," he said when reflecting back on his storied career. "I think we tried to be fair, and I'm very serious about that. I always tried to get both sides."
Thanks to Christy Gutowski
Drummond didn't miss a beat. "I turned around and said, 'Hey, we're trying to get your point of the story, but you guys aren't talking. I've got a camera guy down in the lobby. Let's settle it right now. We'll be glad to talk to you.'"
The ne'er-do-wells didn't take Drummond up on his offer. But during a broadcast career that spanned more than four decades, the straight-talking WBBM-Channel 2 reporter nicknamed "Bulldog" scored the inside scoop on many of the area's most notorious crimes and the thugs who often left behind their fingerprints.
In his second book, "It Ain't Pretty, but It's Real," Drummond shares more tales of murder and mayhem in a follow-up to "Thirty Years in the Trenches Covering Crooks, Characters and Capers," released in 1998, which sold about 5,000 copies.
"I felt when I finished the first one I still had a lot good stories to tell," said Drummond, 79, in his trademark baritone voice, before a book signing at the Villa Park library. "Our book has no fabricated quotations. It's all real."
It includes nearly two dozen colorful vignettes, beginning with the haunting 1972 kidnapping of a Hillside police officer who was killed in Villa Park. His murder led to technological advances in suburban police radio equipment.
Drummond shares his encounters with notorious horseman Silas Jayne, who among his long list of crimes was convicted of conspiracy in his brother's October 1970 fatal shooting in Inverness. Jayne long was rumored to be involved in the still-unsolved 1977 disappearance of candy heiress Helen Vorhees Brach.
"He was a fascinating individual whether you liked him or not," Drummond said. "If you did him wrong, he believed in physical retribution, not litigation; he felt something had to be done and done ruthlessly."
Drummond also tells of other unsolved mysteries he covered, such as when 14-year-old Barbara Glueckert of Mount Prospect vanished in 1976 after attending a rock concert, never to be seen again. In a less notorious case, but just as mysterious, Arlington Heights couple Edward Andrews and his wife, Stephania, disappeared after leaving a cocktail party at the former Sheraton Chicago hotel in 1970. Their bodies still haven't been found.
Drummond, a kid from west-central Wisconsin infatuated with Chicago's big city tales and the lure of television, covered crime, politics and sports and had one-on-one's with presidents Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan.
He was there when the city was rocked by the riots following Dr. Martin Luther King's assassination and the violence that erupted during the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, as well as the federal 1985 Greylord indictment linking Chicago judges to corruption. But the former U.S. Air Force veteran and radio broadcaster is best known for his work in front of the camera sniffing out leads on the Chicago Outfit. He even came out of semiretirement for the recent Family Secrets trial.
Drummond said the terrorists and mentally ill subjects he's covered posed far more of a threat than the mobsters he's known.
"The Outfit was very well disciplined in its heyday," he said. "It would have been counterproductive to kill or assault a news reporter because it would have put too much heat on the mob. We sort of had diplomatic immunity."
Drummond not only covered colorful characters with true grit, in his checkered sport coats and on-air lexicons, such as "coppers" for police or boxing terms like "palooka," but made for an interesting story himself. He's even made cameos in movies such as, "The Fugitive," "Chain Reaction," and "Above the Law," in which he played himself.
Inducted into the Chicago Journalism Hall of Fame in 1997, his artfully weathered face and delivery never changed during a period of blow-dried, cookie-cutter television personalities. He outlasted nearly two dozen news directors during his Channel 2 tenure, which began in 1969.
One of his favorite spots was the "Chicago Chronicles" series that ran three times a week on the 6 p.m. news and featured stories on everyone from a prize fighter to cabbie to bartender to mobster to stripper. His sign off was, "You won't read about them in the Chicago guidebooks or travel brochures."
Drummond left the daily grind in 1995, but "Bulldog" said he still has plenty of good stories to tell. He delayed promotion for his second book after his beloved wife, Carol, with whom he raised three children during their 48-year marriage, died in October after a 10-year cancer battle.
"I survived," he said when reflecting back on his storied career. "I think we tried to be fair, and I'm very serious about that. I always tried to get both sides."
Thanks to Christy Gutowski
Potential Gambino Crime Family Top Boss Sent to Prison
Nicholas "Little Nick" Corozzo, a high-level lieutenant in New York's Gambino crime family, is to spend 13 1/2 years in prison for murder, a judge has ruled.
Corozzo, 69 -- thought to have been in line to take over the mafia crime operation after Peter Gotti was sent to prison for life -- was sentenced Friday in U.S. District Court for ordering the 1996 slaying of Luchese crime family associate Robert Arena that also left an innocent bystander dead, the New York Daily News reported Saturday.
Corozzo calmly accepted his sentence, but his daughter, Donna Paolino, cried, the newspaper said. Corozzo kissed his nephew Joseph Corozzo on the cheek as he left the courtroom.
Thanks to UPI
Corozzo, 69 -- thought to have been in line to take over the mafia crime operation after Peter Gotti was sent to prison for life -- was sentenced Friday in U.S. District Court for ordering the 1996 slaying of Luchese crime family associate Robert Arena that also left an innocent bystander dead, the New York Daily News reported Saturday.
Corozzo calmly accepted his sentence, but his daughter, Donna Paolino, cried, the newspaper said. Corozzo kissed his nephew Joseph Corozzo on the cheek as he left the courtroom.
Thanks to UPI
Sunday, April 19, 2009
It's Not the Hollywood Mob, It's the Chicago Outfit
In the mobster movies, a car pulls up and heavy men in hard shoes get out. And in the quiet suburban house, the wiseguy turned government witness stands foolishly in his new kitchen, oblivious in his bathrobe, scratching, boorishly guzzling milk from the carton.
The guns come up. The milk spills. The feds lose another witness.
Happily, it didn't happen in real life to Nicholas Calabrese, the Chicago Outfit hit man turned star government witness in the Family Secrets trial that sent mob bosses, soldiers, even a corrupt cop to prison. Calabrese is very much alive. Yet in federal court this week, the story of Outfit penetration of witness security is playing out in the case of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose, accused of leaking sensitive information about Calabrese—including his movements—to Chicago's mob.
It's a difficult case to prove, since U.S. District Judge John Grady tossed out key evidence on Thursday. He invited an appeal by telling the jury "I made a mistake" in allowing secret prison tapes to be played linking Ambrose's late father, a Chicago cop convicted in the Marquette 10 police drug scandal, with other crooked cops connected to the Outfit.
Whether Ambrose is found guilty or not, it's obvious that imprisoned Outfit boss Jimmy Marcello and his sleepy brother Michael—who testified in a rumpled orange jumpsuit Thursday—believed they'd cracked the security around Calabrese.
The Marcellos knew of Calabrese being driven around town to murder locations where he briefed the FBI on unsolved hits that formed the basis of Family Secrets, which sent Jimmy and others to prison for life. They knew Calabrese called his wife from a phone dialed as Ambrose guarded Calabrese.
The Marcello brothers knew all about it in January 2003, weeks before I revealed in a Feb. 21, 2003, column that Calabrese was talking to the FBI about a series of unsolved homicides—including the murders of Anthony and Michael Spilotro—and that his federal prison records had disappeared.
Though I'm flattered the Marcellos are loyal readers, and that Ambrose's defense would try to use my column to argue that the leak could have come from just about anywhere, Mickey Marcello testified Thursday that he knew about Calabrese because a law-enforcement source was spilling.
According to Marcello, a fat reputed Chicago mobster, Johnny "Pudgy" Matassa Jr., would tell him what the source learned. Then Marcello would drive to federal prison to tell Jimmy. Then, unbeknownst to the Marcello brothers, the FBI would tape what they said.
"John says his source was giving him a list of names," the balding Mickey testified. "... I had John. He had who he had, who I presumed was a law-enforcement officer."
Matassa and Marcello would meet, but not over checkered tablecloths, candles stuck in bottles of Chianti.
"One time it was Dunkin' Donuts, various restaurants, places like that," Marcello said.
He said Matassa told him about others Nick Calabrese was helping the FBI to investigate, including the boss, John "No Nose" DiFronzo—implicated but not charged in the sensational Spilotro murders. And about Anthony "The Trucker" Zizzo, who later disappeared from a Melrose Park restaurant lot and has never been found.
Mickey Marcello, a font of information, developed a severe case of Fedzheimers when asked about Joe "The Builder" Andriacci, and those two brothers from Bridgeport, Bruno and Frank "Toots" Caruso. Andriacci and the Carusos were not charged.
"Andriacci. 'The Builder,' " said Ambrose lawyer Frank Lipuma during cross-examination. "Is he a mob boss?"
"I don't know," Marcello deadpanned.
"Are you aware of the Carusos who run Chinatown/Bridgeport?" Lipuma asked.
"No," Marcello said. "I'm not aware of that."
"Aren't they associated with organized crime?"
"They know a lot of people," sighed Marcello. "I guess you could say that. That they know a lot of people."
So do the Marcello brothers. They knew a guy who knew a guy who knew Nick Calabrese was taking the FBI to places where murders were committed.
That's not Hollywood.
It's Chicago.
Thanks to John Kass
The guns come up. The milk spills. The feds lose another witness.
Happily, it didn't happen in real life to Nicholas Calabrese, the Chicago Outfit hit man turned star government witness in the Family Secrets trial that sent mob bosses, soldiers, even a corrupt cop to prison. Calabrese is very much alive. Yet in federal court this week, the story of Outfit penetration of witness security is playing out in the case of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose, accused of leaking sensitive information about Calabrese—including his movements—to Chicago's mob.
It's a difficult case to prove, since U.S. District Judge John Grady tossed out key evidence on Thursday. He invited an appeal by telling the jury "I made a mistake" in allowing secret prison tapes to be played linking Ambrose's late father, a Chicago cop convicted in the Marquette 10 police drug scandal, with other crooked cops connected to the Outfit.
Whether Ambrose is found guilty or not, it's obvious that imprisoned Outfit boss Jimmy Marcello and his sleepy brother Michael—who testified in a rumpled orange jumpsuit Thursday—believed they'd cracked the security around Calabrese.
The Marcellos knew of Calabrese being driven around town to murder locations where he briefed the FBI on unsolved hits that formed the basis of Family Secrets, which sent Jimmy and others to prison for life. They knew Calabrese called his wife from a phone dialed as Ambrose guarded Calabrese.
The Marcello brothers knew all about it in January 2003, weeks before I revealed in a Feb. 21, 2003, column that Calabrese was talking to the FBI about a series of unsolved homicides—including the murders of Anthony and Michael Spilotro—and that his federal prison records had disappeared.
Though I'm flattered the Marcellos are loyal readers, and that Ambrose's defense would try to use my column to argue that the leak could have come from just about anywhere, Mickey Marcello testified Thursday that he knew about Calabrese because a law-enforcement source was spilling.
According to Marcello, a fat reputed Chicago mobster, Johnny "Pudgy" Matassa Jr., would tell him what the source learned. Then Marcello would drive to federal prison to tell Jimmy. Then, unbeknownst to the Marcello brothers, the FBI would tape what they said.
"John says his source was giving him a list of names," the balding Mickey testified. "... I had John. He had who he had, who I presumed was a law-enforcement officer."
Matassa and Marcello would meet, but not over checkered tablecloths, candles stuck in bottles of Chianti.
"One time it was Dunkin' Donuts, various restaurants, places like that," Marcello said.
He said Matassa told him about others Nick Calabrese was helping the FBI to investigate, including the boss, John "No Nose" DiFronzo—implicated but not charged in the sensational Spilotro murders. And about Anthony "The Trucker" Zizzo, who later disappeared from a Melrose Park restaurant lot and has never been found.
Mickey Marcello, a font of information, developed a severe case of Fedzheimers when asked about Joe "The Builder" Andriacci, and those two brothers from Bridgeport, Bruno and Frank "Toots" Caruso. Andriacci and the Carusos were not charged.
"Andriacci. 'The Builder,' " said Ambrose lawyer Frank Lipuma during cross-examination. "Is he a mob boss?"
"I don't know," Marcello deadpanned.
"Are you aware of the Carusos who run Chinatown/Bridgeport?" Lipuma asked.
"No," Marcello said. "I'm not aware of that."
"Aren't they associated with organized crime?"
"They know a lot of people," sighed Marcello. "I guess you could say that. That they know a lot of people."
So do the Marcello brothers. They knew a guy who knew a guy who knew Nick Calabrese was taking the FBI to places where murders were committed.
That's not Hollywood.
It's Chicago.
Thanks to John Kass
Mob's Secret Language Revealed
Rub your stomach? That's code for John Matassa, also known as "Pudge" for his love of the sweets.
Brush your nose? Must be talking about boss John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Rubbing fingers together denotes hush money paid out to a moulieri, or wife.
For the benefit of a federal jury hearing the case against accused turncoat federal agent, Michael "Mickey" Marcello on Thursday deciphered the gestures and phrases he and his brother used to discuss mafia business while behind bars.
Marcello told jurors the information he discussed with his brother, Outfit street crew leader Jimmy Marcello, in a Michigan prison came from "the baby sitter," the guy whose father died behind bars and who dialed phone numbers for a wanted hit man-turned-witness in protective custody. But Mickey Marcello, reluctantly testifying Thursday in his prison-issue orange togs and laceless shoes, said he never knew the source's real name or how he got access to the secrets.
Prosecutors fingered deputy U.S. marshal John T. Ambrose as the man who leaked word to the mafia about Nick Calabrese, the protected witness Ambrose guarded.
The FBI got smart to the leaks in 2003 when they caught the Marcellos on tape talking about Calabrese's covert cooperation with federal investigators. But the brothers talked in code and used a slew of gestures to disguise their conversations about criminal Outfit business. And they almost never named names.
One tape in particular was played twice for jurors Thursday before U.S. District Judge John Grady then decided to strike it from the record. On it, Jimmy asked where the news of Calabrese's cooperation came from.
"The guy who is giving it to you?" James asked.
"The guy who is his babysitter," Michael responded.
"Oh yeah?"
"Baby sitter guy. Same guy."
"Same guy that was at the other place with him?"
"(Nods affirmatively) Same guy that took him the first time."
Baby sitter guy, Marcello said, is a law enforcement source whose father was part of the "Marquette 10" police corruption case and since has died, which describes Ambrose's father.
Marcello, 58, pleaded guilty in 2007 to racketeering charges in the Family Secrets mafia case and is now serving his sentence. Thursday the judge had to constantly remind Marcello to sit up and speak into the microphone.
Marcello's answers came in short bursts, rarely in full sentences, as if he never got over a lifetime of communicating in code to foil eavesdropping investigators and evade wiretaps. Granted immunity by Judge Grady, Marcello didn't balk at any of the questions, but punctuated his answers with lots of "whatever you call it, I don't know."
Mickey Marcello's source was John Matassa, who Marcello said was still separated by several sources from the leaker.
"But you didn't know the information was coming from the marshal's office, right?" defense attorney Frank C. Lipuma asked.
"Right," Marcello said.
"There's no indication you know where Matassa got the information from, right?"
"Right."
Thanks to Lauren Fitzpatrick
Brush your nose? Must be talking about boss John "No Nose" DiFronzo.
Rubbing fingers together denotes hush money paid out to a moulieri, or wife.
For the benefit of a federal jury hearing the case against accused turncoat federal agent, Michael "Mickey" Marcello on Thursday deciphered the gestures and phrases he and his brother used to discuss mafia business while behind bars.
Marcello told jurors the information he discussed with his brother, Outfit street crew leader Jimmy Marcello, in a Michigan prison came from "the baby sitter," the guy whose father died behind bars and who dialed phone numbers for a wanted hit man-turned-witness in protective custody. But Mickey Marcello, reluctantly testifying Thursday in his prison-issue orange togs and laceless shoes, said he never knew the source's real name or how he got access to the secrets.
Prosecutors fingered deputy U.S. marshal John T. Ambrose as the man who leaked word to the mafia about Nick Calabrese, the protected witness Ambrose guarded.
The FBI got smart to the leaks in 2003 when they caught the Marcellos on tape talking about Calabrese's covert cooperation with federal investigators. But the brothers talked in code and used a slew of gestures to disguise their conversations about criminal Outfit business. And they almost never named names.
One tape in particular was played twice for jurors Thursday before U.S. District Judge John Grady then decided to strike it from the record. On it, Jimmy asked where the news of Calabrese's cooperation came from.
"The guy who is giving it to you?" James asked.
"The guy who is his babysitter," Michael responded.
"Oh yeah?"
"Baby sitter guy. Same guy."
"Same guy that was at the other place with him?"
"(Nods affirmatively) Same guy that took him the first time."
Baby sitter guy, Marcello said, is a law enforcement source whose father was part of the "Marquette 10" police corruption case and since has died, which describes Ambrose's father.
Marcello, 58, pleaded guilty in 2007 to racketeering charges in the Family Secrets mafia case and is now serving his sentence. Thursday the judge had to constantly remind Marcello to sit up and speak into the microphone.
Marcello's answers came in short bursts, rarely in full sentences, as if he never got over a lifetime of communicating in code to foil eavesdropping investigators and evade wiretaps. Granted immunity by Judge Grady, Marcello didn't balk at any of the questions, but punctuated his answers with lots of "whatever you call it, I don't know."
Mickey Marcello's source was John Matassa, who Marcello said was still separated by several sources from the leaker.
"But you didn't know the information was coming from the marshal's office, right?" defense attorney Frank C. Lipuma asked.
"Right," Marcello said.
"There's no indication you know where Matassa got the information from, right?"
"Right."
Thanks to Lauren Fitzpatrick
Al Capone Love Song
A softer side of famed Chicago mobster Al Capone is on display this week as a Boston archives dealer attempts to sell an inscribed copy of an original song penned by the gangster for $65,000.
Capone apparently wrote "Madonna Mia" while serving time for income tax evasion in Alcatraz in the 1930s. After obtaining a copy of the lyrics last year, a suburban Chicago man has been working with musicians to record the love song and plans to release it Monday on his Web site. "It's a very touching Italian love ballad," said Rich Larsen of Prospect Heights, who runs Caponefanclub.com. "I think it shows that Capone actually had a softness in his heart and a gentle way about him in certain ways."
When he wasn't ruling Chicago's criminal underworld, Capone was a music fan. He loved opera and featured the hottest jazz musicians of the day in his clubs. Capone read music and could play the banjo and the mandola, which is similar to the mandolin. Larsen claimed Capone persuaded Alcatraz wardens to allow inmates to form a band, and Capone, for a time, made music behind bars.
"Madonna Mia," believed to be an ode to his wife, Mae, was the only song Capone is known to have written. The lyrics read, in part, "Madonna Mia, you're the bloom of the roses, you're the charm that reposes, in the heart of a song/Madonna Mia, with your true love to guide me, let whatever be-tide me, I will never go wrong."
The lyrics are signed by Capone in pencil and inscribed to a Jesuit priest who befriended the mobster in his final years. Capone died in 1947.
Thanks to Joel Hood
Capone apparently wrote "Madonna Mia" while serving time for income tax evasion in Alcatraz in the 1930s. After obtaining a copy of the lyrics last year, a suburban Chicago man has been working with musicians to record the love song and plans to release it Monday on his Web site. "It's a very touching Italian love ballad," said Rich Larsen of Prospect Heights, who runs Caponefanclub.com. "I think it shows that Capone actually had a softness in his heart and a gentle way about him in certain ways."
When he wasn't ruling Chicago's criminal underworld, Capone was a music fan. He loved opera and featured the hottest jazz musicians of the day in his clubs. Capone read music and could play the banjo and the mandola, which is similar to the mandolin. Larsen claimed Capone persuaded Alcatraz wardens to allow inmates to form a band, and Capone, for a time, made music behind bars.
"Madonna Mia," believed to be an ode to his wife, Mae, was the only song Capone is known to have written. The lyrics read, in part, "Madonna Mia, you're the bloom of the roses, you're the charm that reposes, in the heart of a song/Madonna Mia, with your true love to guide me, let whatever be-tide me, I will never go wrong."
The lyrics are signed by Capone in pencil and inscribed to a Jesuit priest who befriended the mobster in his final years. Capone died in 1947.
Thanks to Joel Hood
Witness Testifies Behind Large Screen to Protect His Identity at Deputy US Marshal Trial
A witness in the trial of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose was heard, but not seen, by courtroom observers as he testified from behind a large screen erected to protect his identity.
The witness, identified only as Inspector 1, is an officer of the U.S. Marshals Witness Security Program, and was in charge of a security detail when mobster Nicholas Calabrese came to Chicago on two occasions in 2002 and 2003 to cooperate with a federal investigation.
Proceedings took place behind an eight-foot-high gray wall that was erected this morning along the front row of the courtroom's gallery. About 15 spectators, including two disappointed courtroom sketch artists, stared at one side of the wall while listening to questioning about security procedures in place during Calabrese's two visits.
Ambrose, 41, was assigned to those security details and is on trial on charges he leaked information about Calabrese's cooperation to a family friend who allegedly passed the sensitive details on to organized-crime figures.
Prosecutors in the case successfully argued in pre-trial hearings last week that the identities of personnel from the Witness Security Program should be protected as they testify in court. Attorneys for Ambrose opposed the measures, saying that the presence of unusual security precautions would "sensationalize" the trial. But U.S. District Judge John Grady ruled that there were valid reasons to keep the identities of Witness Security Program personnel secret and ruled that a wall should separate courtroom observers seated in the gallery from the judge, jury, attorneys and witness. More hidden witnesses are expected to testify this afternoon from behind the screen.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
The witness, identified only as Inspector 1, is an officer of the U.S. Marshals Witness Security Program, and was in charge of a security detail when mobster Nicholas Calabrese came to Chicago on two occasions in 2002 and 2003 to cooperate with a federal investigation.
Proceedings took place behind an eight-foot-high gray wall that was erected this morning along the front row of the courtroom's gallery. About 15 spectators, including two disappointed courtroom sketch artists, stared at one side of the wall while listening to questioning about security procedures in place during Calabrese's two visits.
Ambrose, 41, was assigned to those security details and is on trial on charges he leaked information about Calabrese's cooperation to a family friend who allegedly passed the sensitive details on to organized-crime figures.
Prosecutors in the case successfully argued in pre-trial hearings last week that the identities of personnel from the Witness Security Program should be protected as they testify in court. Attorneys for Ambrose opposed the measures, saying that the presence of unusual security precautions would "sensationalize" the trial. But U.S. District Judge John Grady ruled that there were valid reasons to keep the identities of Witness Security Program personnel secret and ruled that a wall should separate courtroom observers seated in the gallery from the judge, jury, attorneys and witness. More hidden witnesses are expected to testify this afternoon from behind the screen.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
Peter Gotti Denied by Judge in Attempt to Overturn Conviction
Looks like Peter Gotti will be in jail until his dying day.
A federal judge Wednesday shot down the former crime boss' latest attempt to overturn his 2004 conviction for ordering a hit on mob rat Salvatore (Sammy Bull) Gravano.
Manhattan Judge Harold Baer shrugged off the so-called Dopey Don's claims that prosecutors violated his rights by withholding details of a conversation between Gravano and his FBI supervisor Bruce Mouw.
"The fly in the ointment is the failure on [Gotti's] part to explain how the fact of an allegedly ongoing relationship between Gravano and Mouw could have impeached Mouw's credibility," Baer wrote. "Gravano did not testify at the trial and apparently his only role at the trial was as the target that [Gotti] had directed to be killed," Baer added.
Baer said Gotti's lawyers could have simply read media accounts of the recorded conversations between Mouw and Gravano.
Gotti, 69 and in poor health, was sentenced to 25 years for ordering a hit on Gravano - who was nabbed in a drug bust before it could happen.
Gotti already had begun serving a nine-year sentence on a Brooklyn racketeering conviction, and together with the 25-year term he began serving in 2005, he won't be eligible for release until 2032, when he would be 92.
Thanks to Thomas Zambito
A federal judge Wednesday shot down the former crime boss' latest attempt to overturn his 2004 conviction for ordering a hit on mob rat Salvatore (Sammy Bull) Gravano.
Manhattan Judge Harold Baer shrugged off the so-called Dopey Don's claims that prosecutors violated his rights by withholding details of a conversation between Gravano and his FBI supervisor Bruce Mouw.
"The fly in the ointment is the failure on [Gotti's] part to explain how the fact of an allegedly ongoing relationship between Gravano and Mouw could have impeached Mouw's credibility," Baer wrote. "Gravano did not testify at the trial and apparently his only role at the trial was as the target that [Gotti] had directed to be killed," Baer added.
Baer said Gotti's lawyers could have simply read media accounts of the recorded conversations between Mouw and Gravano.
Gotti, 69 and in poor health, was sentenced to 25 years for ordering a hit on Gravano - who was nabbed in a drug bust before it could happen.
Gotti already had begun serving a nine-year sentence on a Brooklyn racketeering conviction, and together with the 25-year term he began serving in 2005, he won't be eligible for release until 2032, when he would be 92.
Thanks to Thomas Zambito
Mickey Marcello is Reluctant Witness in Deputy US Marshal John Ambrose Trial
FBI recordings caught brothers James and Michael Marcello anxiously discussing information in 2003 that their Chicago Outfit associate Nicholas Calabrese might testify against them and others.
On Thursday, Michael "Mickey" Marcello was on the witness stand in Chicago's federal courthouse, reluctantly reliving those undercover recordings in the trial of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose.
Wearing an orange prison jumpsuit and thick glasses, Marcello, 58, squinted at transcripts of several recorded conversations with his brother and deciphered the vague codes and signals they used to furtively discuss Calabrese's enrollment in the witness protection program.
Marcello testified that he learned of Calabrese's cooperation with law enforcement from reputed mob figure John "Pudgy" Matassa Jr.
Ambrose is on trial on charges that while twice guarding Calabrese, he leaked Calabrese's cooperation to a family friend with alleged mob links, knowing the sensitive information would end up in the Outfit's hands.
Marcello denied directly knowing Ambrose or knowing that Ambrose was allegedly the source to the mob of Calabrese's cooperation.
When asked who he was referring to on one undercover recording when he identified the source as Calabrese's "baby-sitter," Marcello said, "The guy that watches him."
Marcello testified that Matassa indicated that the original source was in law enforcement. But Matassa said he himself was receiving information from another man named "Billy," Marcello said.
Marcello said that he presumed that referred to William Guide, a former Chicago police officer convicted in the Marquette 10 police corruption trial in the 1980s. Guide was a close friend of Ambrose's father, Thomas, who was also convicted in that prosecution and died in prison. But a key 2003 video recording in which the Marcello brothers discuss the source's ties to the Marquette 10 defendants, the initial clue that led authorities to investigate Ambrose, was belatedly removed from evidence Thursday by U.S. District Judge John Grady.
Grady reversed his earlier decision to allow the videotape as evidence even though the jury had already viewed it twice during the trial. "I apologize for making a mistake," said Grady, ordering the jury to ignore that particular videotape and hand in transcripts of that tape.
Prosecutors have argued that Ambrose leaked details of Calabrese's cooperation to Guide with the knowledge that it would reach organized-crime figures. Ambrose's attorneys have admitted that Ambrose talked to Guide about protecting Calabrese but contend he had no criminal intent.
Marcello, serving an 8 1/2-year sentence on racketeering and conspiracy convictions, spent more than five hours on the stand, responding to most questions with clipped, one-word answers. When questioned about his own organized-crime ties or the rank or status of other Outfit figures, including his brother James, he became visibly uncomfortable, stammering answers and pleading ignorance.
Outside the courtroom, Marcello's lawyer, Catharine O'Daniel, said that her client had testified only because he was granted immunity and threatened with an additional sentence for contempt if he did not appear. "He is not here willingly," O'Daniel said. "He's as willing as I am whenever I go to get a root canal."
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
On Thursday, Michael "Mickey" Marcello was on the witness stand in Chicago's federal courthouse, reluctantly reliving those undercover recordings in the trial of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose.
Wearing an orange prison jumpsuit and thick glasses, Marcello, 58, squinted at transcripts of several recorded conversations with his brother and deciphered the vague codes and signals they used to furtively discuss Calabrese's enrollment in the witness protection program.
Marcello testified that he learned of Calabrese's cooperation with law enforcement from reputed mob figure John "Pudgy" Matassa Jr.
Ambrose is on trial on charges that while twice guarding Calabrese, he leaked Calabrese's cooperation to a family friend with alleged mob links, knowing the sensitive information would end up in the Outfit's hands.
Marcello denied directly knowing Ambrose or knowing that Ambrose was allegedly the source to the mob of Calabrese's cooperation.
When asked who he was referring to on one undercover recording when he identified the source as Calabrese's "baby-sitter," Marcello said, "The guy that watches him."
Marcello testified that Matassa indicated that the original source was in law enforcement. But Matassa said he himself was receiving information from another man named "Billy," Marcello said.
Marcello said that he presumed that referred to William Guide, a former Chicago police officer convicted in the Marquette 10 police corruption trial in the 1980s. Guide was a close friend of Ambrose's father, Thomas, who was also convicted in that prosecution and died in prison. But a key 2003 video recording in which the Marcello brothers discuss the source's ties to the Marquette 10 defendants, the initial clue that led authorities to investigate Ambrose, was belatedly removed from evidence Thursday by U.S. District Judge John Grady.
Grady reversed his earlier decision to allow the videotape as evidence even though the jury had already viewed it twice during the trial. "I apologize for making a mistake," said Grady, ordering the jury to ignore that particular videotape and hand in transcripts of that tape.
Prosecutors have argued that Ambrose leaked details of Calabrese's cooperation to Guide with the knowledge that it would reach organized-crime figures. Ambrose's attorneys have admitted that Ambrose talked to Guide about protecting Calabrese but contend he had no criminal intent.
Marcello, serving an 8 1/2-year sentence on racketeering and conspiracy convictions, spent more than five hours on the stand, responding to most questions with clipped, one-word answers. When questioned about his own organized-crime ties or the rank or status of other Outfit figures, including his brother James, he became visibly uncomfortable, stammering answers and pleading ignorance.
Outside the courtroom, Marcello's lawyer, Catharine O'Daniel, said that her client had testified only because he was granted immunity and threatened with an additional sentence for contempt if he did not appear. "He is not here willingly," O'Daniel said. "He's as willing as I am whenever I go to get a root canal."
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
Robert Cooley Has Advice for Rod Blagojevich
This past week, top FBI informant Robert Cooley e-mailed Newsalert in regards to an ABC TV Chicago story by Chuck Goudie. Blago was rather upset with Chuck Goudie over Cooley's allegation that Blago was a Chicago Mob bookmaker years ago. Here's what Blagojevich told Chuck Goudie:
Cooley e-mailed Newsalert with a suggestion on legal counsel for Blago's lawsuit against Cooley, here's the quote:
Alderman Burke is a powerful Chicago Alderman and tax appeals attorney
. Cooley has accused Alderman Burke in a published book of trying to fix a murder trial for the Chicago Mob, but Alderman Burke didn't sue. Ed Genson and Pat Tuite are also attorneys mentioned in Cooley's book (concerning legal allegations) but they didn't sue either. Cooley also had this bit of advice for Blago:
Dan Stefanski is the former Teamster official who's been accused of ties to the Chicago Mob. The AP reported this story on March 9, 2006:
Blago was willing to give Stefanski a $105,000 a year job.
"That Cooley is a liar," he said. "I am going to sue that (bleepin') Cooley," Blagojevich stated, his face red at this point with apparent anger. He repeated: "I'm going to sue him."
Cooley e-mailed Newsalert with a suggestion on legal counsel for Blago's lawsuit against Cooley, here's the quote:
"If Blago wants to sue me he can hire Ed Burke, or Ed Genson,or Pat Tuite, to represent him."
Alderman Burke is a powerful Chicago Alderman and tax appeals attorney
. Cooley has accused Alderman Burke in a published book of trying to fix a murder trial for the Chicago Mob, but Alderman Burke didn't sue. Ed Genson and Pat Tuite are also attorneys mentioned in Cooley's book (concerning legal allegations) but they didn't sue either. Cooley also had this bit of advice for Blago:"Rod can call Dan Stefanski as a witness."
Dan Stefanski is the former Teamster official who's been accused of ties to the Chicago Mob. The AP reported this story on March 9, 2006:
A top-ranking official in the state Department of Transportation and childhood friend of Gov. Rod Blagojevich is out of a job less than a month after he was arrested for drunken driving, officials said Thursday.
Dan Stefanski was ``informed his services were no longer needed'' in his role as a special assistant to Transportation Secretary Tim Martin last week, department spokesman Matt Vanover said.
Blago was willing to give Stefanski a $105,000 a year job.
Blagojevich Threatens to Sue Cooley Over Bookmaking Allegations
Elevator pitch is the common business term for that short presentation you would make if you had to sell a product or idea to someone in the time span of an elevator ride.
When I (Chuck Goudie) was the only reporter with Rod Blagojevich on an elevator on Tuesday, as soon as the doors closed the ex-governor began his pitch.
It was inside an elevator at the Dirksen Federal Building that Mr. Blagojevich began his pitch, as he and I rode to the 25th floor with only his lawyer and a deputy U.S. Marshal.
The ousted governor had already made his public points on the way in. But once we were behind closed elevator doors, away from the cameras, Blagojevich launched into a pitched tirade about something else: illegal gambling and allegations that he worked as a bookmaker, taking action from sports gamblers before he got into politics.
"That bookmaking story was (bleep)," said Illinois' former leader. "I did not do that. I deny it. It's a (bleepin') lie," he said in what would become an uninterrupted diatribe.
Pointing to me, he said, "This man is a (bleepin') liar. He puts lies on TV."
The target of Blagojevich's elevator pitch: an I-Team report four months ago, shortly after the governor was arrested on corruption charges.
"When I was working with government wearing wire, I reported, I observed Rod, the present governor, who was running a gambling operation out in the western suburbs. He was paying street tax to the mob out there," said Robert Cooley, federal informant.
Cooley made those comments on a Web based interview show. I also spoke to him at length on the phone about his allegations against Blagojevich.
The senior FBI agent who supervised Cooley's undercover work confirmed that Cooley gave officials information about Blagojevich's alleged bookmaking back in 1986. Current federal officials declined to comment. But back in the elevator on Tuesday, Blagojevich was still on a roll.
"That Cooley is a liar," he said. "I am going to sue that (bleepin') Cooley," Blagojevich stated, his face red at this point with apparent anger. He repeated: "I'm going to sue him."
When the doors opened to the 25th floor where Blagojevich was about to be arraigned in court, he adjusted his necktie, composed himself and walked off. A few minutes later pleading not guilty to corruption charges.
The only other words said during Blagojevich's elevator pitch came when I reminded him that the I-Team had offered numerous opportunities to respond to the bookmaking allegations.
In the elevator Blagojevich said he wanted to respond on camera and will and on Wednesday his public relations agent said the ex-governor will talk to the I-Team on camera about this at some point, but not today.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
When I (Chuck Goudie) was the only reporter with Rod Blagojevich on an elevator on Tuesday, as soon as the doors closed the ex-governor began his pitch.
It was inside an elevator at the Dirksen Federal Building that Mr. Blagojevich began his pitch, as he and I rode to the 25th floor with only his lawyer and a deputy U.S. Marshal.
The ousted governor had already made his public points on the way in. But once we were behind closed elevator doors, away from the cameras, Blagojevich launched into a pitched tirade about something else: illegal gambling and allegations that he worked as a bookmaker, taking action from sports gamblers before he got into politics.
"That bookmaking story was (bleep)," said Illinois' former leader. "I did not do that. I deny it. It's a (bleepin') lie," he said in what would become an uninterrupted diatribe.
Pointing to me, he said, "This man is a (bleepin') liar. He puts lies on TV."
The target of Blagojevich's elevator pitch: an I-Team report four months ago, shortly after the governor was arrested on corruption charges.
"When I was working with government wearing wire, I reported, I observed Rod, the present governor, who was running a gambling operation out in the western suburbs. He was paying street tax to the mob out there," said Robert Cooley, federal informant.
Cooley made those comments on a Web based interview show. I also spoke to him at length on the phone about his allegations against Blagojevich.
The senior FBI agent who supervised Cooley's undercover work confirmed that Cooley gave officials information about Blagojevich's alleged bookmaking back in 1986. Current federal officials declined to comment. But back in the elevator on Tuesday, Blagojevich was still on a roll.
"That Cooley is a liar," he said. "I am going to sue that (bleepin') Cooley," Blagojevich stated, his face red at this point with apparent anger. He repeated: "I'm going to sue him."
When the doors opened to the 25th floor where Blagojevich was about to be arraigned in court, he adjusted his necktie, composed himself and walked off. A few minutes later pleading not guilty to corruption charges.
The only other words said during Blagojevich's elevator pitch came when I reminded him that the I-Team had offered numerous opportunities to respond to the bookmaking allegations.
In the elevator Blagojevich said he wanted to respond on camera and will and on Wednesday his public relations agent said the ex-governor will talk to the I-Team on camera about this at some point, but not today.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie
Youngest Boss of Any of the Five New York Mafia Families to Be Deported to Canada
When Salvatore Montagna, named as the boss of one of the notorious five Mafia families of New York City, was given a choice of where he wished to be deported -- Canada, where he was born, or Italy, where he is a citizen -- he quickly made plans for a return to Montreal.
That decision now leaves Canadian officials scrambling with what to do about a man they know little about. He returns to Canada free of any legal obligation and faces no charges.
Nicknamed "Sal the Ironworker" because of his trade in metal work, Mr. Montagna made headlines in New York when he was named as the acting boss of the Bonanno crime family at the improbably young age of 35. Mr. Montagna's youth led the tabloids to dub him the "bambino boss."
In the United States, officials are not shy about what they think Mr. Montagna has been up to. "He is a made member of the La Cosa Nostra, more specifically the Bonanno Italian organized crime family. Montagna is accused of making violent threats against a U. S. attorney from the Eastern District of New York," said Brandon A. Montgomery, spokesman for U. S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).
Mr. Montagna's New York lawyer, George Stavropoulos, said the allegations are "absolutely, categorically denied."
"He is not involved in the Mafia, he is not the boss of the Bonanno crime family or the acting boss of the Bonanno crime family. This is something that the FBI manufactured."
Mr. Stavropoulos said he was unaware of the threat allegation until told by the National Post. "If they had anything to prove what they are alleging they would be indicting him, not deporting him," he said.
Mr. Montagna was born on May 11, 1971, in Montreal, one of three sons born to Italian immigrants. When he was still an infant, the family moved to Sicily, and over the years shuttled back and forth. At the age of 15, Mr. Montagna moved with his family from Montreal to New York, driving through the Lacolle-Champlain border crossing.
Mr. Montagna followed in his father's footsteps, becoming an ironworker and starting his own company after high school. His company, Matrix Steel Co., of Brooklyn, has grown over 10 years into a multi-million dollar enterprise, according to Mr. Stavropoulos.
In New York, he married an American-born Italian woman and the couple has three daughters, all under the age of 10. His marriage also allowed him to become a legal permanent resident of the United States.
In 2001, just as he was thinking of applying for U. S. citizenship, he was subpoenaed to testify in a state gambling case. The prosecutor was unsatisfied with Mr. Montagna's testimony and charged him with criminal contempt.
On October 28, 2003, he pleaded guilty and was sentenced to five years probation. "He plead as opposed to putting up a fight. He thought that was the easy way out," said Mr. Stavropoulos.
It was a decision he regrets. The conviction ended his citizenship plans and last week came back to haunt him.
In 2006, the New York Daily News named him as the acting boss. Several grand juries had been convened; colleagues and metal work competitors were subpoenaed to testify. As many as 30 federal cars were assigned to monitor him, Mr. Stavropoulos said.
No charges came.
Despite the tough talk from officials, the media attention and the investigations -- even at a time when the Bonanno organization was hard hit by senior members becoming police informants, including the long-time boss -- no indictment was filed against Mr. Montagna.
Instead, last week U. S. immigration officials scooped him up and placed him in detention.
Based on his conviction for contempt, deemed a civil violation of the Immigration and Nationality Act, he faced an immigration hearing on Tuesday.
He agreed to be removed to Canada.
"He will remain in ICE custody until his actual departure from the United States to Canada," said Mr. Montgomery of ICE. "Montagna is relinquishing his permanent residency and will be inadmissible if he attempts to request a visa in Canada."
He will not be alone here when he arrives next week. While one brother remains in New York, Mr. Montagna has a brother in Montreal and his parents still frequent the city. "As soon as his children finish school, his wife fully intends to move to Canada to join him," said Mr. Stavropoulos.
"He feels confident coming to Canada. He loves Canada. He said he was happy to be coming to Canada." He will likely sell his home and business and start fresh if he cannot win a reprieve.
Montreal is a city that also has long ties to the Bonanno crime family.
Montreal's Mafia boss, Vito Rizzuto, is currently in a U. S. prison for a gangland murder on behalf of the Bonanno leadership; and several New York gangsters alleged to have associated with Mr. Montagna also have strong links to the city, including Patrick "Patty From the Bronx" DeFillipo and Baldassare "Baldo" Amato.
In 2006, the FBI secretly recorded a conversation between gangsters in which Michael Cassese said that Mr. Montagna is the family's acting boss, according to court documents. "There's nobody in between. That's it," the gangster said of Mr. Montagna's position.
The RCMP is aware of Mr. Montagna's impending trip, said Sergeant Marc LaPorte, but declined to comment on whether there will be any special attention paid to him.
Said Patrizia Giolti, spokeswoman for CBSA: "While I will not comment on the specifics of a case, I can tell you that any Canadian citizen has the right to enter Canada."
Mr. Stavropoulos said Canadians have nothing to fear. "He fully intends to lead a lawful life there and raise his young family."
Thanks to Adrian Humphreys
That decision now leaves Canadian officials scrambling with what to do about a man they know little about. He returns to Canada free of any legal obligation and faces no charges.
Nicknamed "Sal the Ironworker" because of his trade in metal work, Mr. Montagna made headlines in New York when he was named as the acting boss of the Bonanno crime family at the improbably young age of 35. Mr. Montagna's youth led the tabloids to dub him the "bambino boss."
In the United States, officials are not shy about what they think Mr. Montagna has been up to. "He is a made member of the La Cosa Nostra, more specifically the Bonanno Italian organized crime family. Montagna is accused of making violent threats against a U. S. attorney from the Eastern District of New York," said Brandon A. Montgomery, spokesman for U. S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).
Mr. Montagna's New York lawyer, George Stavropoulos, said the allegations are "absolutely, categorically denied."
"He is not involved in the Mafia, he is not the boss of the Bonanno crime family or the acting boss of the Bonanno crime family. This is something that the FBI manufactured."
Mr. Stavropoulos said he was unaware of the threat allegation until told by the National Post. "If they had anything to prove what they are alleging they would be indicting him, not deporting him," he said.
Mr. Montagna was born on May 11, 1971, in Montreal, one of three sons born to Italian immigrants. When he was still an infant, the family moved to Sicily, and over the years shuttled back and forth. At the age of 15, Mr. Montagna moved with his family from Montreal to New York, driving through the Lacolle-Champlain border crossing.
Mr. Montagna followed in his father's footsteps, becoming an ironworker and starting his own company after high school. His company, Matrix Steel Co., of Brooklyn, has grown over 10 years into a multi-million dollar enterprise, according to Mr. Stavropoulos.
In New York, he married an American-born Italian woman and the couple has three daughters, all under the age of 10. His marriage also allowed him to become a legal permanent resident of the United States.
In 2001, just as he was thinking of applying for U. S. citizenship, he was subpoenaed to testify in a state gambling case. The prosecutor was unsatisfied with Mr. Montagna's testimony and charged him with criminal contempt.
On October 28, 2003, he pleaded guilty and was sentenced to five years probation. "He plead as opposed to putting up a fight. He thought that was the easy way out," said Mr. Stavropoulos.
It was a decision he regrets. The conviction ended his citizenship plans and last week came back to haunt him.
In 2006, the New York Daily News named him as the acting boss. Several grand juries had been convened; colleagues and metal work competitors were subpoenaed to testify. As many as 30 federal cars were assigned to monitor him, Mr. Stavropoulos said.
No charges came.
Despite the tough talk from officials, the media attention and the investigations -- even at a time when the Bonanno organization was hard hit by senior members becoming police informants, including the long-time boss -- no indictment was filed against Mr. Montagna.
Instead, last week U. S. immigration officials scooped him up and placed him in detention.
Based on his conviction for contempt, deemed a civil violation of the Immigration and Nationality Act, he faced an immigration hearing on Tuesday.
He agreed to be removed to Canada.
"He will remain in ICE custody until his actual departure from the United States to Canada," said Mr. Montgomery of ICE. "Montagna is relinquishing his permanent residency and will be inadmissible if he attempts to request a visa in Canada."
He will not be alone here when he arrives next week. While one brother remains in New York, Mr. Montagna has a brother in Montreal and his parents still frequent the city. "As soon as his children finish school, his wife fully intends to move to Canada to join him," said Mr. Stavropoulos.
"He feels confident coming to Canada. He loves Canada. He said he was happy to be coming to Canada." He will likely sell his home and business and start fresh if he cannot win a reprieve.
Montreal is a city that also has long ties to the Bonanno crime family.
Montreal's Mafia boss, Vito Rizzuto, is currently in a U. S. prison for a gangland murder on behalf of the Bonanno leadership; and several New York gangsters alleged to have associated with Mr. Montagna also have strong links to the city, including Patrick "Patty From the Bronx" DeFillipo and Baldassare "Baldo" Amato.
In 2006, the FBI secretly recorded a conversation between gangsters in which Michael Cassese said that Mr. Montagna is the family's acting boss, according to court documents. "There's nobody in between. That's it," the gangster said of Mr. Montagna's position.
The RCMP is aware of Mr. Montagna's impending trip, said Sergeant Marc LaPorte, but declined to comment on whether there will be any special attention paid to him.
Said Patrizia Giolti, spokeswoman for CBSA: "While I will not comment on the specifics of a case, I can tell you that any Canadian citizen has the right to enter Canada."
Mr. Stavropoulos said Canadians have nothing to fear. "He fully intends to lead a lawful life there and raise his young family."
Thanks to Adrian Humphreys
Thursday, April 16, 2009
The Soprano's Last Supper
The 
Soprano's Last Supper is an interactive dinner show that will have you laughing, dancing and singing. Fast paced entertainment complete with a special scene where you are part of the fun!
Opening: Friday, April 24, 2009 at the Tropicana in Las Vegas
Show Times: 7:00pm Tuesday - Saturday. Doors Open at 6:30pm. Dark on Sunday and Monday.
Ticket Prices: Starting at $55 plus tax
Soprano's Last Supper is an interactive dinner show that will have you laughing, dancing and singing. Fast paced entertainment complete with a special scene where you are part of the fun!Opening: Friday, April 24, 2009 at the Tropicana in Las Vegas
Show Times: 7:00pm Tuesday - Saturday. Doors Open at 6:30pm. Dark on Sunday and Monday.
Ticket Prices: Starting at $55 plus tax
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
John "No Nose" DiFronzo and Alphonse 'Pizza Al" Tornabene Named as Original Operation Family Secrets Targets
Reigning Chicago mob boss John "No Nose" DiFronzo was an original target of the Family Secrets investigation, according to these 2002 Justice Department records released on Tuesday, along with Alphonse 'Pizza Al" Tornabene, the Outfit's elder statesman.
"The objective in the case is to indict and convict...high ranking members of Chicago organized crime...including DiFronzo...and Tornabene," stated the government. But despite a case summary naming them as targets, neither DiFronzo nor Tornabene were among the fourteen Outfit members charged in 2005 with murders and mayhem.
As of 2007, Tornabene was still meeting with suspected Outfit figures and as of last month, the I-Team found DiFronzo still controlling Outfit rackets and meeting with mob underlings at a suburban restaurant.
The U.S. Marshal service files were made public on Tuesday night in the case of Deputy John Ambrose, now on trial for leaking information to the mob about Nick Calabrese, the highest ranking Chicago mobster ever to become a government witness.
According to the witness protection records, Calabrese said he and John DiFronzo planned and committed the most notorious mob hit in last 25 years: the gangland murders of brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro, found buried in an Indiana cornfield.
Nick Calabrese's testimony was to be so spectacular, that 24 men were listed by the feds as threats, all of whom would want to kill him.
Nick Calabrese lived to testify and federal prosecutors won the Family Secrets case. But as the records show, there are still some secrets left.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie and Ann Pistone
"The objective in the case is to indict and convict...high ranking members of Chicago organized crime...including DiFronzo...and Tornabene," stated the government. But despite a case summary naming them as targets, neither DiFronzo nor Tornabene were among the fourteen Outfit members charged in 2005 with murders and mayhem.
As of 2007, Tornabene was still meeting with suspected Outfit figures and as of last month, the I-Team found DiFronzo still controlling Outfit rackets and meeting with mob underlings at a suburban restaurant.
The U.S. Marshal service files were made public on Tuesday night in the case of Deputy John Ambrose, now on trial for leaking information to the mob about Nick Calabrese, the highest ranking Chicago mobster ever to become a government witness.
According to the witness protection records, Calabrese said he and John DiFronzo planned and committed the most notorious mob hit in last 25 years: the gangland murders of brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro, found buried in an Indiana cornfield.
Nick Calabrese's testimony was to be so spectacular, that 24 men were listed by the feds as threats, all of whom would want to kill him.
Nick Calabrese lived to testify and federal prosecutors won the Family Secrets case. But as the records show, there are still some secrets left.
Thanks to Chuck Goudie and Ann Pistone
"McMafia" Nabs Movie Deal
"McMafia: A Journey Through the Global Criminal Underworld," Mischa Glenny's sprawling book about organized crime around the world, has landed a movie deal
.
London- and Los Angeles-based production company Working Title Films has acquired rights to the book.
Glenny, an expert on global affairs, focuses on the network of mob criminals in places as diverse as Mumbai, Johannesburg and Eastern Europe. These players, he writes, operate illegal businesses ranging from drug smuggling to human trafficking, in operations that account for roughly one-fifth of the world's economy.
With its globalist themes, the book is said to be something of an underworld equivalent of Thomas Friedman's The World Is Flat 3.0: A Brief History of the Twenty-first Century
.
Nonfiction fare that lacks a central character or story line typically has been considered difficult to adapt to the screen. Nonetheless, such tomes as Michael Lewis' baseball study Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game and Malcolm Gladwell's decision-making exploration Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking are in development at major studios and production banners.
Thanks to Steven Zeitchik
.
London- and Los Angeles-based production company Working Title Films has acquired rights to the book.
Glenny, an expert on global affairs, focuses on the network of mob criminals in places as diverse as Mumbai, Johannesburg and Eastern Europe. These players, he writes, operate illegal businesses ranging from drug smuggling to human trafficking, in operations that account for roughly one-fifth of the world's economy.
With its globalist themes, the book is said to be something of an underworld equivalent of Thomas Friedman's The World Is Flat 3.0: A Brief History of the Twenty-first Century
.
Nonfiction fare that lacks a central character or story line typically has been considered difficult to adapt to the screen. Nonetheless, such tomes as Michael Lewis' baseball study Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game and Malcolm Gladwell's decision-making exploration Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking are in development at major studios and production banners.
Thanks to Steven Zeitchik
Melrose Park Former Police Chief's Racketeering and Extortion Trial Begins
Former Melrose Park Police Chief Vito Scavo used "extortion and strong-arm tactics" to get local institutions—including bars and restaurants, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Catholic Church, Navistar and Kiddieland amusement park—to use guards from his security firm for protection, a federal prosecutor charged Tuesday. But an attorney for Scavo defended his client's law enforcement record.
Assistant U.S. Atty. Stephen Andersson told a federal jury in his opening arguments in Scavo's racketeering and extortion trial that Scavo ran his private security firm out of the Melrose Park police station. He often used on-duty village police officers who were paid twice, once by the village and once by the client, for their service, Andersson said.
"You don't say no to the police chief," Andersson said.
Andersson asserted that a waste disposal company that was paying another security firm $17 an hour for a security guard was pressured into paying $45 per guard from Scavo's firm.
Andersson said that Scavo used the ill-gotten gain to buy a Florida condominium, lease a $60,000 Cadillac Escalade and pay for an $11,000 big-screen television.
Thomas Breen, Scavo's defense attorney, countered in his opening argument by saying that "police officers aren't terribly well paid, and many have side jobs."
"Melrose Park—Vito Scavo—extortion, sounds scary," Breen said. "But Scavo is a copper's cop and a darn good cop for 30 years."
Breen compared the Melrose Park Police Department to a social club and likened the village to television's fictional small town of Mayberry.
Scavo is on trial with former Deputy Police Chief Gary Montino, 52, and a part-time officer, Michael Wynn, 55, who the government claims assisted Scavo in the fraudulent scheme. The trial, presided over by U.S. District Court Judge Joan Gottschall, is expected to last a month.
Scavo, police chief from 1996 to 2006, is charged with racketeering conspiracy, extortion, obstruction of justice, mail and wire fraud and filing false personal and corporate federal income tax returns. Montino is charged with racketeering and mail fraud, and Wynn is charged with mail fraud.
Thanks to Art Barnum
Assistant U.S. Atty. Stephen Andersson told a federal jury in his opening arguments in Scavo's racketeering and extortion trial that Scavo ran his private security firm out of the Melrose Park police station. He often used on-duty village police officers who were paid twice, once by the village and once by the client, for their service, Andersson said.
"You don't say no to the police chief," Andersson said.
Andersson asserted that a waste disposal company that was paying another security firm $17 an hour for a security guard was pressured into paying $45 per guard from Scavo's firm.
Andersson said that Scavo used the ill-gotten gain to buy a Florida condominium, lease a $60,000 Cadillac Escalade and pay for an $11,000 big-screen television.
Thomas Breen, Scavo's defense attorney, countered in his opening argument by saying that "police officers aren't terribly well paid, and many have side jobs."
"Melrose Park—Vito Scavo—extortion, sounds scary," Breen said. "But Scavo is a copper's cop and a darn good cop for 30 years."
Breen compared the Melrose Park Police Department to a social club and likened the village to television's fictional small town of Mayberry.
Scavo is on trial with former Deputy Police Chief Gary Montino, 52, and a part-time officer, Michael Wynn, 55, who the government claims assisted Scavo in the fraudulent scheme. The trial, presided over by U.S. District Court Judge Joan Gottschall, is expected to last a month.
Scavo, police chief from 1996 to 2006, is charged with racketeering conspiracy, extortion, obstruction of justice, mail and wire fraud and filing false personal and corporate federal income tax returns. Montino is charged with racketeering and mail fraud, and Wynn is charged with mail fraud.
Thanks to Art Barnum
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Secret Prison Video Highlights Testimony at Mob Leak Trial
Secretly-recorded video of two Chicago Outfit members discussing mob hit man Nicholas Calabrese's cooperation with federal investigators highlighted the first testimony in the trial of Deputy U.S. Marshal John Ambrose in local federal court today.
Grainy footage of James and Michael Marcello, taken from the waiting room of a Michigan federal prison in 2003, showed the brothers using code words, subtle gestures and whispers to discuss what information Calabrese was sharing on dozens of mob murders in the Chicago area.
"He admitted to being involved in 19 of them things," Michael Marcello told his brother in one recording, referring to Calabrese and the number of mob murders he had disclosed to authorities.
FBI Special Agent Michael Maseth said such discussions were the first clue to authorities of a significant leak about Calabrese's cooperation with investigators. "We were shocked," said Maseth, describing the response of agents when they heard specific information about Calabrese's disclosures being discussed by the Marcellos.
Prosecutors say Ambrose, who protected Calabrese during two visits to Chicago in 2002 and 2003 as part of his witness security detail, was the original source of the "highly sensitive" information that eventually made its way to the Marcellos.
Video recordings were also played of the Marcellos, seated side-by-side in a waiting room with their heads almost touching, discussing that the leak's source was the son of a figure arrested in the Marquette 10 police corruption trial in the 1980's. Ambrose's father, Thomas, was convicted on felony bribery charges in 1982.
Earlier, Maseth gave the jury a crash course in the Chicago Outfit, describing the structure of the organization and defining what made particular figures "made members." Maseth also described Calabrese as "the most important organized-crime witness that has ever testified in this district and perhaps in the United States."
Assistant U.S. Atty. Diane MacArthur asked Maseth what consequences Calabrese could face if his cooperation was discovered by members of the Outfit. "The level of risk was the ultimate level of risk. He could be killed," Maseth said.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
Grainy footage of James and Michael Marcello, taken from the waiting room of a Michigan federal prison in 2003, showed the brothers using code words, subtle gestures and whispers to discuss what information Calabrese was sharing on dozens of mob murders in the Chicago area.
"He admitted to being involved in 19 of them things," Michael Marcello told his brother in one recording, referring to Calabrese and the number of mob murders he had disclosed to authorities.
FBI Special Agent Michael Maseth said such discussions were the first clue to authorities of a significant leak about Calabrese's cooperation with investigators. "We were shocked," said Maseth, describing the response of agents when they heard specific information about Calabrese's disclosures being discussed by the Marcellos.
Prosecutors say Ambrose, who protected Calabrese during two visits to Chicago in 2002 and 2003 as part of his witness security detail, was the original source of the "highly sensitive" information that eventually made its way to the Marcellos.
Video recordings were also played of the Marcellos, seated side-by-side in a waiting room with their heads almost touching, discussing that the leak's source was the son of a figure arrested in the Marquette 10 police corruption trial in the 1980's. Ambrose's father, Thomas, was convicted on felony bribery charges in 1982.
Earlier, Maseth gave the jury a crash course in the Chicago Outfit, describing the structure of the organization and defining what made particular figures "made members." Maseth also described Calabrese as "the most important organized-crime witness that has ever testified in this district and perhaps in the United States."
Assistant U.S. Atty. Diane MacArthur asked Maseth what consequences Calabrese could face if his cooperation was discovered by members of the Outfit. "The level of risk was the ultimate level of risk. He could be killed," Maseth said.
Thanks to Robert Mitchum
Chicago Mob History 101 from the FBI
An FBI agent gave jurors a lesson in the history of the Chicago mob during the trial of a former deputy U.S. Marshal accused of blabbing secrets to alleged mobsters.
Special agent Michael Maseth was the first witness in the trial of John Ambrose, 42.
Ambrose is accused of leaking information about Nicholas Calabrese, the government's star witness at the Family Secrets trial that targeted top members of the Chicago mob. He's denied the allegations.
Maseth's testimony Tuesday underscored how Calabrese put his life at risk by cooperating with the government and how significant his information was.
Maseth called Calabrese the most important organized crime figure to ever testify in the district and "perhaps the entire United States."
Thanks to CBS2Chicago
Special agent Michael Maseth was the first witness in the trial of John Ambrose, 42.
Ambrose is accused of leaking information about Nicholas Calabrese, the government's star witness at the Family Secrets trial that targeted top members of the Chicago mob. He's denied the allegations.
Maseth's testimony Tuesday underscored how Calabrese put his life at risk by cooperating with the government and how significant his information was.
Maseth called Calabrese the most important organized crime figure to ever testify in the district and "perhaps the entire United States."
Thanks to CBS2Chicago
Monday, April 13, 2009
CHICAGO GANG FUGITIVE SOUGHT
Robert D. Grant, Special Agent-in-Charge of the Chicago office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) is asking for the public’s help in locating a suspected Chicago gang member, who is wanted for violation of Federal drug laws.
GEORGE BROWN, age 26, whose last known address was 2100 South Kildare in Chicago, has been the subject of a nationwide manhunt coordinated by the Chicago FBI since December of 2008, when he was charged by a Federal Grand Jury in Chicago with distributing both wholesale and personal user quantities of crack cocaine.
According to the indictment, BROWN was part of a drug-trafficking organization centered on the west side of Chicago, which distributed illicit drugs on behalf of the Conservative Vice Lords street gang. The operation was centered in the vicinity of 18th Street and Pulaski Road, an area known as the “Spot”. BROWN was one of fourteen suspected gang members and associates charged in connection with this investigation and is one of only two defendants in the case who is still at-large.
BROWN, who is also known as “GB”, is described as a black/male, 26 years of age, 6’ 2” tall, medium build, with black hair, brown eyes and was last known to be wearing a full beard. BROWN has an extensive criminal history, including firearms and weapons charges. As such, BROWN should be considered Armed and Dangerous.
Anyone recognizing BROWN or having any information about his current whereabouts is asked to call either the Chicago FBI at (312) 421-6700 or any law enforcement agency.
The public is reminded that an indictment is not evidence of guilt and that all defendants in a criminal case are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.
GEORGE BROWN, age 26, whose last known address was 2100 South Kildare in Chicago, has been the subject of a nationwide manhunt coordinated by the Chicago FBI since December of 2008, when he was charged by a Federal Grand Jury in Chicago with distributing both wholesale and personal user quantities of crack cocaine.
According to the indictment, BROWN was part of a drug-trafficking organization centered on the west side of Chicago, which distributed illicit drugs on behalf of the Conservative Vice Lords street gang. The operation was centered in the vicinity of 18th Street and Pulaski Road, an area known as the “Spot”. BROWN was one of fourteen suspected gang members and associates charged in connection with this investigation and is one of only two defendants in the case who is still at-large.
BROWN, who is also known as “GB”, is described as a black/male, 26 years of age, 6’ 2” tall, medium build, with black hair, brown eyes and was last known to be wearing a full beard. BROWN has an extensive criminal history, including firearms and weapons charges. As such, BROWN should be considered Armed and Dangerous.
Anyone recognizing BROWN or having any information about his current whereabouts is asked to call either the Chicago FBI at (312) 421-6700 or any law enforcement agency.
The public is reminded that an indictment is not evidence of guilt and that all defendants in a criminal case are presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law.
Mafia Turf War Breaks Out in Brooklyn
There's a new Mafia turf war in Brooklyn - but this time, it's the prosecutors who are doing battle.
Michael Vecchione
, the rackets bureau chief in the Brooklyn district attorney's office, has rankled the feds by claiming in a new book that they swiped the celebrated Mafia cops case and then hogged all the glory.
Vecchione complains in "Friends of the Family: The Inside Story of the Mafia Cops Case" that federal prosecutors claimed most of the credit for nailing crooked NYPD Detectives Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa.
While turf battles between local and federal law enforcement agencies are common, Vecchione's stinging criticism is unusual because he still works for the district attorney and is supposed to cooperate with the feds on ongoing cases.
"I don't see how anybody can deal with him after he's violated the sanctity of confidential conversations for mercenary reasons," a federal law enforcement source said.
The feds agreed to let Brooklyn District Attorney Charles Hynes' office announce arrests and prosecute one of the murders linked to the Mafia cops, the book claims. But they went back on their word, according to the book, which Vecchione wrote with retired NYPD Detective Thomas Dades and author David Fisher.
"For them to tell us that they didn't say exactly what they said to me was such an act of cowardice and betrayal that I couldn't find words to explain it," Vecchione said.
Eppolito, 60, and Caracappa, 67, were convicted in 2006 of participating in eight murders for Luchese crime boss Anthony (Gaspipe) Casso and leaking confidential information to the gangster.
Casso revealed in 1994 the cops had been on his payroll for years. But the feds couldn't make a case against the rogue detectives until a decade later when Dades and the district attorney's office helped expose their involvement in the murder of a mob associate.
Vecchione unleashed his harshest attack on Greg Andres, the current criminal division chief of the U.S. attorney's office.
"As far as Vecchione was concerned, Andres was a typically arrogant poker-up-his-ass, know-it-all fed," the book states. "His animosity toward Andres went back to a wiseguy case ... in which Andres [credited] the FBI for work it hadn't done."
Hynes, who approved Vecchione's book deal, insisted there's no feud. "Our working relationships with the U.S. attorney's office are excellent and any bump in the road that might have occurred was just that. There are no problems between us and I don't expect any," Hynes said.
Andres and U.S. Attorney Benton Campbell declined comment. But former top federal prosecutors panned the book.
"Public confidence in the integrity of the Brooklyn DA's office is only eroded when a rackets bureau chief writes and shops a book about a murder case he is investigating and preparng for trial," said George Stamboulidis, managing partner of the law firm Baker Hostetler.
Thomas Seigel, the former chief of the U.S. attorney's organized crime section - who was not involved in the Mafia cops case - said: "The incredibly dedicated members of state and federal law enforcement typically and laudably refrain from criticizing their colleagues in the press, let alone a book, over internal squabbles. It is hard to see how law enforcement as a whole benefits from such personal and public criticism."
Vecchione and Dades wrote the book three years ago but held off its publication until the defendants had exhausted their appeals.
The 2006 jury verdict was thrown out by Judge Jack Weinstein on a legal technicality but reinstated by the U.S. Court of Appeals. The cops were recently sentenced to life in prison.
Thanks to John Marzulli
Michael Vecchione
, the rackets bureau chief in the Brooklyn district attorney's office, has rankled the feds by claiming in a new book that they swiped the celebrated Mafia cops case and then hogged all the glory.Vecchione complains in "Friends of the Family: The Inside Story of the Mafia Cops Case" that federal prosecutors claimed most of the credit for nailing crooked NYPD Detectives Louis Eppolito and Stephen Caracappa.
While turf battles between local and federal law enforcement agencies are common, Vecchione's stinging criticism is unusual because he still works for the district attorney and is supposed to cooperate with the feds on ongoing cases.
"I don't see how anybody can deal with him after he's violated the sanctity of confidential conversations for mercenary reasons," a federal law enforcement source said.
The feds agreed to let Brooklyn District Attorney Charles Hynes' office announce arrests and prosecute one of the murders linked to the Mafia cops, the book claims. But they went back on their word, according to the book, which Vecchione wrote with retired NYPD Detective Thomas Dades and author David Fisher.
"For them to tell us that they didn't say exactly what they said to me was such an act of cowardice and betrayal that I couldn't find words to explain it," Vecchione said.
Eppolito, 60, and Caracappa, 67, were convicted in 2006 of participating in eight murders for Luchese crime boss Anthony (Gaspipe) Casso and leaking confidential information to the gangster.
Casso revealed in 1994 the cops had been on his payroll for years. But the feds couldn't make a case against the rogue detectives until a decade later when Dades and the district attorney's office helped expose their involvement in the murder of a mob associate.
Vecchione unleashed his harshest attack on Greg Andres, the current criminal division chief of the U.S. attorney's office.
"As far as Vecchione was concerned, Andres was a typically arrogant poker-up-his-ass, know-it-all fed," the book states. "His animosity toward Andres went back to a wiseguy case ... in which Andres [credited] the FBI for work it hadn't done."
Hynes, who approved Vecchione's book deal, insisted there's no feud. "Our working relationships with the U.S. attorney's office are excellent and any bump in the road that might have occurred was just that. There are no problems between us and I don't expect any," Hynes said.
Andres and U.S. Attorney Benton Campbell declined comment. But former top federal prosecutors panned the book.
"Public confidence in the integrity of the Brooklyn DA's office is only eroded when a rackets bureau chief writes and shops a book about a murder case he is investigating and preparng for trial," said George Stamboulidis, managing partner of the law firm Baker Hostetler.
Thomas Seigel, the former chief of the U.S. attorney's organized crime section - who was not involved in the Mafia cops case - said: "The incredibly dedicated members of state and federal law enforcement typically and laudably refrain from criticizing their colleagues in the press, let alone a book, over internal squabbles. It is hard to see how law enforcement as a whole benefits from such personal and public criticism."
Vecchione and Dades wrote the book three years ago but held off its publication until the defendants had exhausted their appeals.
The 2006 jury verdict was thrown out by Judge Jack Weinstein on a legal technicality but reinstated by the U.S. Court of Appeals. The cops were recently sentenced to life in prison.
Thanks to John Marzulli
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